In the Company of Wolves
by Starherd
Summary: Advent Children AU. What if Loz decided to keep Tifa, instead of leaving her after their fight? Sadness was the price to see it end. WARNING: rape. Loz x Tifa with sides of Tifa x Cloud and SHM shipping. And Sephiroth.
1. One

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

This is an Advent Children AU which, quite frankly,

scares me occasionally.

In this AU, time passes at what I find to be a more believable rate than it does in the movie (according to the translated timelines from the

_Reunion Files_ book). This is purely because I prefer it that way, and I reserve the right to laugh at anybody who yells at me for it. ;-)

**WARNINGS: There is rape in this fanfic**

(offscreen between chapters 1 & 2, vague in chapters 10 & 11;

I don't know that chapter 6 counts).

**This is NOT the fluffy not-really-rape found in a lot of fanfic.**

**It is cruel and unhappy and selfish and not going to change.**

**(There is a spoiler-ific note at the end of the final chapter, chapter sixteen, to go into this more.)**

**Anyway. If that bothers you, DON'T read this.**

If you're just looking for smut, you're in the wrong place, too;

Very little but plot and vague and fade-to-black here.

Additionally, by the end of the story, major characters will die.

(But, hey, you probably already watched Advent Children anyway, so it's not exactly unheard of...)

* * *

* * *

(one)

* * *

_Wanna play?_

The world was moving, air rushing by her face.

_I guess that's a no... Where's Mother?_

She felt the world shift; her head bumped against something metal. She... hurt. She tried to lift her head. Her lips struggled to form words. "There's no one here..."

_Fine. Play with me._

She forced her voice from her. "Marlene..." She tried to open her eyes. She was... sitting... in some vehicle... a truck? That couldn't be right...

Near her face, a gloved hand, a slight glow... "Sleep."

* * *

The world was dark and warm and soft, the air at her face humid but cool, carrying the musty scent of decaying leaves and water. Tifa slowly came to, her body vaguely sore and stiff as from having slept too long. Her brown eyes opened, and she frowned, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

A glimmering net of light fluttered above her. Gradually, she focused; it was the reflection of water on a curved ceiling.

At first, she wondered what water was outside her window that the light could be reflecting from. Then she simultaneously realized that the window was in the wrong place, and that the ceiling of her room was not curved. Adding to that the familiar scent...

Her eyes widened, body tensing. She knew this place. The Forgotten Capital. The sadness etched into her mind, the air burdened with memory - crying into Cloud's shoulder the last time she'd been here...

But what was she doing here? She didn't remember coming here. The last thing she remembered was...

Oh... Oh, no...

She'd been fighting, trying to protect Marlene from that guy that had come at them in the Church. It had been going well - exhilarating, in fact - and they'd thought that it was over. But then he'd gotten back up, moving unreasonably fast - he had to have been using a Haste spell. Cheating bastard.

But she didn't remember anything beyond, which meant, quite possibly, that... she'd lost. But if she'd been beaten that badly, shouldn't she be feeling it more? Unless someone had used Cure spells on her... And that still didn't explain how she'd gotten here...

Slowly and warily, Tifa pulled herself into a sitting position, the warm blankets falling away. She seemed to be wearing only her undergarments, and she scowled. What had happened to her clothes?

The room was dim and quiet, the only light the reflection on the ceiling, the slight sound of the water echoing through. This was a chamber of one of the seashell-like buildings. Judging by the wide pallet that she occupied, this room had been in use for a while. Someone was living here...

Her gaze swept over the room. Much of it was shadowed, but it seemed... den-like, in the way things were strewn about. She glanced over her shoulder -

Tifa realized that she was not alone.

It was the man who'd attacked her. He was sitting on a crate next to the pallet, one leg bent and the other straight, arms folded, with shoulders resting against the wall behind him. He seemed to be sound asleep, chin on his chest.

She sat still for a long moment, holding her breath, but he didn't move. If she listened carefully, she could just make out his deep, regular breathing over the sound of the water outside. He was asleep. He _had_ to be asleep.

She carefully moved the blankets aside as silently as possible, skin prickling in the cool air. At least she'd been left her underwear; that said something. Maybe her clothes were lying here somewhere...

She shook her head with an inaudible sigh. She'd no time to look. A prisoner's first duty was to escape, and if she was going to do that, it would have to be now. She planted her bare feet on the floor and stood, trying not to shiver too much, and maneuvered around the sleeping man's outstretched leg.

Crossing the room to the door was an agonizingly slow task. She could barely see, and she tentatively prodded the area in front of her with her toes at each step, praying that the floor would not creak. After what seemed like hours, she was able to lay her hand on the wall next to the door, relaxing slightly. Step one was completed; so far, so good.

The door was ill-fitted to the archway - definitely a more recent addition to the ancient building. She peered through a gap in the wooden planks. The curving hall on the other side of the door had windows, showing the strange forest beyond, illuminated as in moonlight. The hallway was the only way out; the windows were too small.

Tifa felt along the edge of the door until she found leverage, then pushed lightly. The door moved at her touch; the makeshift hinges gave one small squeak of protest. She froze, holding her breath, waiting for some sort of noise behind her to indicate that she'd been heard... but there was nothing, only the sounds of water and the man's untroubled breathing. After a few long minutes, she risked pushing the door again, this time enough to let her slip out.

Beyond the row of windows, the corridor was a lightless void. She waited for her eyes to adjust for as long as she dared, finally moving again when she could make out the shapes of debris along the walls. She began to walk, a bit faster than she had across the first room, less worried about making noise the further she got from that place. All she had to do was follow this spiral hall down to the way out...

Just as she passed through an archway, a gleam of blue-green light caught the corner of her eye. She turned her head to see what it was...

Two points of soft light. Glowing, slit-pupiled... eyes...

She barely had time to gasp, her mind struggling to make the connection, when a hand shot out of the shadow of the arch and caught her by the neck, slamming her back against the wall. She cried out, grabbing the arm with one hand and lashing out with the other - which was blocked, then caught and likewise held against the wall.

"Ungrateful," her assailant stated, voice cold enough to still her struggles. These eyes, this tone of voice; Tifa knew them. Seven years ago, in the Mako reactor in Nibelheim -

"After Loz tired himself out casting Cure on every damn bruise he gave you," the voice went on, the tone warming slightly. Unable to break his hold, Tifa relaxed a little, gulping for air. He wasn't strangling her, simply holding her tightly, immobilizing her. She glanced about, trying to see some means of escape, but there was nothing visible in this shadow but those eyes.

"Let me go," she whispered. It couldn't hurt to ask.

The voice seemed to be amused now. "You're not mine to release." And then raised, calling out: "Loz!"

From the way she'd come, there was sound - rustling, soft for a moment, then rushed. Then the creak of the door, and quick footsteps. A different voice. "Yazoo! What are you -"

Tifa was suddenly wrenched to one side, flung to the floor by her neck. She fell, quickly curling her knees beneath her, ready to stand even as she rubbed at her neck. If she kicked back, perhaps she could land a blow and slip past -

"If you're going to keep her, get a leash," the cold voice snapped. She heard and felt this Yazoo turn and proceed down the passage without another word.

The other man, Loz, gave a slight snort - perhaps he was annoyed? She couldn't tell. She felt him take her upper arm, using the same firm grip that Yazoo had on her neck, hauling her to her feet. "You can't run," his gruff voice addressed her as he pulled her back toward the room they'd come from.

She stumbled along, giving up on struggling. Even if she could break free, Yazoo was down the hallway, and these two seemed to be able to see in this darkness far better than she could. She looked toward his face - he had those same eyes, too. She hadn't noticed in the Church's bright daylight.

They were Sephiroth clones. They had to be. She'd thought that they'd all been killed, but there could be no other explanation, could there?

"Let me go," she tried again, doing her best to calm her voice despite how strongly her heart thumped in her chest.

They reached the door, the scene cast in moonlight from outside; he paused, looking at her for a moment. His back was to the light, his face in shadow, only those blue-green eyes visible. And then he opened the door and dragged her through. "Hnh. Not likely."

He was willing to talk. Maybe she could exploit that... "Why? What do you want with me? What happened -"

He released her arm, propelling her further into the room as he did so, and pulled the door shut behind him. The angle of the light coming through the window here was different; she could see his strong-featured face, the slight smile that twisted his lips. "Your name is Tifa?"

She clamped her mouth shut, taking a step backward as he approached.

"That's what Marlene said, anyway -"

"Marlene!" Tifa's eyes widened in shock. She stepped further back, falling into a fighting stance, fists raised. "What have you done to her!"

Loz stopped, tilting his head to the side, still staring at Tifa as his smile dropped away. "She ran away," he said, sounding a little... regretful. "I'd thought that she might stay. She's probably with our older brother."

Tifa eyed him even more warily. "Your... older brother?"

"Cloud," the man responded, smiling and advancing again. "You belong to him, don't you?"

Cloud... Of course. If they were clones, they could call him that; he'd been one of the first that process had been applied to. Cloud, who had fought so hard to kill Sephiroth. Cloud, who had told her that he would be there for her, and yet had still grown more distant with each passing day. Cloud, who had hidden from her that he'd been suffering from Geostigma. Cloud, who had left.

Cloud, who she belonged to. "You could say that," she admitted, sliding backward a little further.

He finally came to a halt quite close to her - barely inches from her raised and ready fists. He looked down into her face, and lower, eyes narrowing. Tifa scowled, gritting her teeth; she thought she could guess, now, what he might want with her.

"You fight _beautifully_," he murmured, eyes meeting hers again. "It was..." he cast about for a word, finally settling on the simplest one. "It was _good_. I don't want you to be left behind. My brothers wanted you left as a message for Older Brother, but they didn't see you fight. I left your gloves instead. I've never seen my brothers so angry with me - they'd only wanted Marlene to come. She came anyway. But I couldn't take the chance..."

That didn't sound promising, except for the part that she might be able to drive Loz and his brothers - there must be more than just Yazoo - apart. If she could set them against each other, she might still be able to escape. "I don't know what you mean," she hedged, resisting the urge to either back up further or throw a punch. He was only talking. There was time.

He moved like lightning, his hands catching hers at the wrist. She jerked back, but it was too late; she cursed herself for not expecting the move.

"You'll be our sister," he breathed, drawing her closer even as she tried to pull free. "When the Reunion takes place, you won't be left behind with this planet of traitors. You'll be with us. I waited for you to wake-"

His face was so close to hers... Tifa gritted her teeth, trying to break her hands free, to no avail. "Get the hell away from me!"

She tried to knee him in the groin, but she was too close to him for it to be effective. He swiftly forced her arms behind her back, bringing her body up against his, catching both of her wrists in one hand. His free hand swept along her side, briefly and carelessly brushing her undershirt upward, before reaching for her face. She jerked her head away, but he tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back. She cried out -

And then his lips were covering hers, keeping hers apart, his tongue at her teeth too briefly for her to bite. She couldn't breathe. She wrenched her head to the side as hard as she could, breaking the invasive kiss.

"Don't do this," she gasped as quickly as she could.

He moved his head closer again, this time nuzzling her ear. She stiffened, unable to twist any further away, locked in his embrace. She gritted her teeth in frustration, eyes burning. His name. She'd been given his name. Names had power.

"Loz, don't do this!"

"You'll be lost if I don't," he murmured, lips closing around her earlobe. "You taste... different..." He stopped suddenly, pulling back, frowning.

"Don't cry," he whispered, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to her cheek, where a tear coursed downward. "Don't cry, Tifa. It'll be good. I promise."

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	2. Two

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

* * *

(Two)

* * *

He fell asleep again soon after, apparently exhausted. She lay tense and still, afraid to make a sound, tangled in the blankets on the pallet with his arms still around her.

Tifa stared at the reflected light tracing its courses across the ceiling. There had been a time, brief and nearly two years ago, when Cloud had held her like this, and she'd thought that all was finally well with the world. She missed him so much, Cloud as he'd been then, powerful and warm and _there_...

She couldn't hate Cloud, even if she sometimes thought that it might be better if she did. Better still if he'd hate _her_. But he didn't. He simply didn't care enough to stay with her. When he did come back, it was to see Marlene and Denzel. He barely spoke to her at all any more.

It was all her own fault. It was her fault that Cloud nearly _hadn't_ found himself again. If she'd just told him as soon as she'd known that something was wrong, that his version of his past didn't match up with what she remembered...

Loz moved in his sleep, pulling one arm away to curl it beneath his head, the other arm still draped over her. Tifa turned her head and looked at his face.

She couldn't hate him, either. She wanted to hate him; she _should_ hate him. But she couldn't. Not when she felt that she'd somehow brought this on herself...

It wasn't that he was undeserving; he was unmistakably a monster in near every sense of the word. But the clumsy comfort that he tried to give, even as he violated her - it was sincere. She was certain that he was her elder, but he behaved like a confused teenager, too distracted to accept his actions as evil.

It hurt that after so long alone, being held again felt good, even in these circumstances.

She wondered if she'd fought him as hard as she could have.

She hated herself.

Perhaps it was simply her fate. It wasn't only Cloud that she'd wronged. When Avalanche had been fighting, before Sephiroth had reappeared, they hadn't been as precise as they pretended. People had died. More people than would have, if they'd been more careful - or if they'd found another way entirely, rather than resorting to destruction. And then when the planet had lashed out against Meteor, the Lifestream rising like floodwaters, she'd been _happy_...

Perhaps this was her penance, then, finally - to be thrown to the wolves, the creatures that had menaced the planet, to be punished for her hubris.

If that was even what Loz was. She glanced over his arms again. She'd thought that all of the Sephiroth clones had been tattooed with identification numbers - but his arms were bare and unmarked.

She realized that she was shaking, but she couldn't stop. The air felt cold enough to sear her lungs, the blankets uncomfortably damp, his skin too hot to bear so closely any longer.

She frantically kicked the blankets away, pulling herself from the pallet, free of his touch. For few minutes, she crouched on her knees, hugging herself and trying not to be sick. He stirred in his sleep, turned onto his back, but didn't seem to wake.

At last the cold became too much for her, and her body calmed. She slowly let go of her arms, opening her eyes and feeling about the floor. She finally found her discarded undergarments, at least, and pulled them on again.

She still couldn't find her clothes. She could find his, and she considered stealing them, but the fit on her would've been bad enough to just slow her down.

Assuming she could even get away this time.

She walked to the door - less cautious than when she'd tried before - and peered out through one of the cracks that the dim light of the setting moon still seeped through.

There was no point in even trying. There was a black-clad man standing at one of the windows across from the door, chin propped in his hand, eyes open, long hair shining silver-white. He stared out at the night forest; if he heard her, he gave no sign.

She moved away, toward the room's single small window. The moon was out of sight this way, but the sky was bright with stars.

She remembered a long-ago night in Nibelheim, sitting on the water tower with Cloud, under the starry sky.

He'd promised to come for her... But he'd already done that, many times over. She felt that she'd worn her paladin down to nothing.

Tifa closed her eyes and turned her back to the window, slowly sliding to her knees. She raised her arms to hide her face, sitting and drawing her knees up to her chest, trying to stifle her sobs.

Loz gave a start, sitting up quickly, casting about the room until his gaze found her.

She couldn't stop crying, and she didn't care. She couldn't bring herself to do more than glance at him when he came to sit next to her. She couldn't even cringe when he slid one arm around her waist, the other over her shoulders, and drew her in to rest against him. With her head against his chest, she could hear his heartbeat, unreasonably steady and strong.

She gave another choking sob, grinding the heel of her hand into her brow. No, no, how could he do this? How could he look at her like he couldn't figure out why she was crying? How could he act as though he were sympathetic?

How long had it been since Cloud had looked at her like that? How long had it been since she'd let him see her cry?

The door creaked. The one outside had heard. "Loz?"

"Hmm." His response was soft, but the vibration transferred to her like warmth. How could he be warm? He should be cold and cruel and nothing like this...

"You're losing sleep..." There was a hint of uncertainty to the otherwise cool voice.

He'd been resting his cheek against her hair; now Loz raised his head, actually giving a soft laugh. "Yazoo." The amusement left his voice, replaced by concern. "How is Kadaj?"

"Drained. Sleeping. Are you sure -"

"Not now," Loz rumbled, laying his head against hers again. "Tomorrow."

Yazoo lingered a moment more, but finally the sound of the door signaled his exit.

Loz waited until her breath no longer caught so badly before shifting, pulling her to her feet, his arms still around her. "The bed is warmer," he suggested, guiding her.

She let him lay her down, curling on her side with her back to him as he adjusted the blankets. It _was_ warmer, at least.

He pulled himself up against her back, putting his arm around her again, making himself comfortable. It had been so long since she'd been held so closely...

He moved still closer, burying his face in her hair, his breath hot on her neck. His body curved against her; the arm around her was steel. She wouldn't be getting up again.

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	3. Three

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

* * *

* * *

(Three)

* * *

"Loz."

Tifa startled awake at the voice. Loz released her, rolling on to his back, and she was shocked at how cold she felt without him.

"There's food ready," the voice spoke again. "Come on. We've got to get to the coast by nightfall."

Loz grunted his assent and reached up. Tifa looked over her shoulder at the bearer of this new voice - it was daylight now - and was surprised at how young he appeared to be. Another... clone, with silver hair and slitted eyes, but still just a kid - noticeably younger than Loz or Yazoo. She would've been surprised if he'd been eighteen.

The boy caught the offered hand and leaned back, helping Loz to his feet. He turned his cat-like eyes on Tifa; she flinched, looking away.

Loz moved away, gathering his clothing; the boy sank into a crouch, eyeing Tifa as though she were a strange and possibly dangerous creature. "What about her?"

She curled tighter and closed her eyes, wishing that this was a dream from which she could wake. Something stung low on her stomach, like a particularly bad cramp; she tried to ignore it. But it occurred to her that it wasn't the right time of her cycle for cramps...

Loz dropped his jacket on the nearby crate and sank to his knees on the pallet, pulling at her arm. "Get up."

She was pulled onto her back, her eyes snapping open. The change in position seemed to set her abdomen on fire; something was definitely wrong. With her free arm she instinctively punched, but Loz caught it easily - without looking, as though he barely noticed. He smiled at her. "Good morning."

The boy's hand suddenly shot out, sliding the hem of her undershirt upward. She gasped and kicked at the apparent attack, but he brought his knees and other hand down on her legs to hold them still. He sounded surprised when he spoke. "Brother, you did it!"

Loz followed the boy's gaze, and his smile widened. Tifa raised her head, glimpsed oozing veins of black scrawled across her stomach - Geostigma.

She dropped back, going limp again, stunned. She'd had no warning, no hint of the disease yesterday, before -

Before -

But that wasn't possible, was it? How could this plague be at these clones' beck and call?

It didn't matter. It hurt. She turned her head aside, biting her lip. It looked so much worse than Denzel's case, and he was just barely hanging on at this point. She didn't know how it could've struck so quickly, but the fatigue and fever would undoubtedly catch her soon.

"It's fast," the boy commented, running his gloved hand over the lesions. She winced, instinctively trying to curl up again, but unable to move. "She should drink -"

"No." At the sharp note in his voice, Tifa looked at Loz again; he was frowning at his younger brother now. "Not yet, Kadaj. I want... I want her to stay herself."

Kadaj raised an eyebrow, smiling faintly. "Possessive, now?" But then his expression hardened. "You know it won't last. She'll die before the Reunion at this rate."

"Leave her for as long as possible." It was phrased as a command, but the older man sounded... subservient, almost pleading.

Kadaj regarded him with cold eyes for a moment - then his lips twitched up at the corners again. "As you wish," he murmured.

He laid his hand flat over the Geostigma; pain flared as though he'd stabbed her. Tifa gave a strangled cry and tried to kick, twist away, anything to make it stop - but between the two of them, she was immobilized.

And then the pain... receded, like a wave. She stopped struggling, breathing hard, trying to figure out what had happened.

Kadaj lifted his hand away; the glove dripped with the dark liquid that flowed from the Geostigma. He smiled, gently caressed his brother's face, leaving a trail of black along his cheek. "Don't forget about _us_," he said softly.

Loz smiled back, shaking his head. He let go of Tifa's fist, wiping the black away with the back of his bare hand. She shuddered, but realized that the plague seemed to pose no threat to them.

The boy stood, releasing her legs. "Pleased to meet you, Little Sister," he said, still smiling, before turning and leaving the room.

Tifa swallowed, allowing Loz to sit her upright. It didn't hurt - at least, not nearly as much as it should. She looked down, tugging aside her now black-stained undershirt... but there was nothing there. Mouth opened in shock, she searched further, but found only one tiny black scratch. Nothing to indicate the extent of the disease she'd seen just a moment ago.

"You'll be all right," Loz told her, his voice warm. He slipped his arms around her, pulling her to her feet and taking her hand in his. "Kadaj asked it to sleep. This way, you'll be able to join us in the Reunion."

She was shivering uncontrollably, her voice weak. "What have you done to me?"

"I told you before," he said patiently, letting go of her long enough to pick up her clothing, which was heaped against the wall near the door. "You've become our sister. Mother has accepted you." He seemed proud, as though he'd accomplished something wonderful. "I knew she would. You've been so close to Older Brother for so long, I knew that she wouldn't turn you away." He handed her vest and shorts to her, leaving her shoes and apron where they lay. "Get dressed."

She obediently stooped to put on her shorts, then slipped into the vest. Her hands were shaking so badly that she could barely fasten the zipper in the front; it caught halfway and she left it there.

What was he talking about? He had - he had _given_ her Geostigma, and his brother had caused it to go latent? And this made her their sister? How could they have this apparent control over something that had seemed to come as a vengeance from the planet itself? And the way that they spoke of the Reunion and their Mother, the same way that Sephiroth had...

Oh... Oh, god. It wasn't from the planet at all, was it? This plague that had started the night they'd killed Sephiroth, sent him into the Lifestream...

It was all their fault. She'd felt bad enough about her own callousness - when the Lifestream had repelled Meteor, she'd looked down at Midgar and thought that all the sins were being swept away, that everything would be all right. But then the plague had appeared, that very night, and they'd known that the planet had still wanted to punish humanity, and she'd felt so awful for having assumed that all would be well... But this... this was so much worse... All the people who'd died from Geostigma... All that blood on their hands. On _her_ hands.

She fell to her knees, hands rising to her face as though covering her eyes could hide her from the horror in her mind. "Oh, god, what have I done..."

Loz took her arms again and pulled her roughly to her feet. "Come," he said, a little more forcefully - she was wearing at his patience.

She didn't care. She shook her head, unable to articulate what she felt, even though she doubted that he'd care.

"_Come_," Loz repeated, pulling at her - but she stayed rooted to the spot.

He sighed, then moved quickly, scooping her up in his arms. She fell still against his bare chest - he seemed to have entirely forgotten his jacket - and hid her face in her hands. He proceeded to carry her out into the hallway without another word.

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	4. Four

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

* * *

* * *

(Four)

* * *

Loz took her to another room further down in the building, and set her down on one end of a built-in window seat. Her eyes open wide and unblinking, she moved only to hug her knees to her chest, pushing herself as far into the corner as she could.

Loz quickly returned from an anteroom, nudging her with his elbow and offering her a piece of bread stuffed with meat. When she didn't move, he shrugged and laid the rough sandwich on the windowsill next to her, leaning against the wall to eat his own.

The sound of voices came from the hall, and then Yazoo and Kadaj entered the room. They paused a moment, but then Kadaj shrugged. "Fed the troops. That had better not be mine." He gestured toward the sandwich that Loz was about to take a bite from.

"Nah," Loz took his bite, then spoke around it. "Yazoo's."

The slight man's mouth slid into a half-grin, eyes narrowing. Evidently that had been a declaration of war. "We left the rare meat for you," he growled. But he turned away, following Kadaj into the adjacent room.

Loz took his time eating, eyes on the doorway - but as soon as the shadows within moved near the door, he looked away, staring out the window.

Tifa still didn't move. It was all she could do to keep herself from breaking apart.

Yazoo came back, flopping down on the window seat next to her and crossing his legs. "Liar," he said around his own sandwich, nudging Loz with his foot. His brother grinned, wolfing down the rest of his sandwich and heading off toward the side room, presumably for more.

Yazoo finished eating, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket and brushing the crumbs from his hands. He finally seemed to take notice of Tifa. "You don't look well, Little Sister," he mused, leaning closer.

Tifa tensed, pushing herself as far from him as the wall would allow. "Don't," she whispered, unable to flee any further.

"I don't suppose I can blame you," he continued, shifting closer. "You must be in shock, after what he put you through."

She couldn't help it. His words sounded so kind... She raised her head a little, meeting his gaze.

He was smiling, and his eyes were cold and sly. "Don't you think that you deserve someone prettier than that lug?" Yazoo purred, reaching out to touch her face.

She didn't have time to flinch away, but she didn't have to; his hand never touched her. He was grabbed up by the collar of his jacket and flung across the room.

Loz stood before her with his back to her, hands clenched into fists. Tifa couldn't see his face. She looked past him to where Yazoo staggered to his feet, bracing himself against the opposite wall.

"Kadaj was right," he spat, his face hidden by his hair. "Possessive..." And then he looked up, and she saw that he was grinning madly. "I was wondering what I'd have to do to get your attention."

Loz rushed at him, throwing a punch that he easily blocked, but pinning him against the wall. "Was that all you wanted? You could've just asked -"

Kadaj reappeared from the side room, carrying a canteen, which he swung out of the way as Yazoo threw Loz off of him. "Outside!" he snapped, scowling at them.

Yazoo had dropped into a crouch, eyes never leaving his brother. At Kadaj's command, he sprinted for the doorway, catching the frame on the way out so as to turn into the hall without having to slow down. Loz was after him instantly.

"There's rooms here that we can't even use anymore thanks to them," Kadaj sighed, taking Yazoo's place on the window seat and offering Tifa the canteen. She only tilted her head back, closing her eyes.

This was her well-deserved fate, then. She'd failed too many times, been too thoughtless and cruel. This was all she was good for now: being a plaything for these monsters. And the Geostigma - If she'd just fought harder, she could've kept Loz away, kept herself from being... branded like property... irreparably tainted...

Cloud must feel the same way all the time now, she realized. Impure and doomed and helpless... No wonder he'd left. Her arrogance had driven him away.

Her eyes were tearing up again. She couldn't stop.

"Eat," Kadaj commanded, glaring at her. The way he'd said it had been strangely powerful - and very frightening. She jumped, staring at him for a moment before taking her sandwich from the windowsill. The meat in the sandwich seemed to be unevenly cooked, like the animal it had come from had been hit with a Bolt spell several times rather than properly prepared. The bread was a bit stale.

When he offered the canteen again, she accepted. It was only water.

He stood as she finished, taking the canteen back from her. "I shouldn't have to tell you," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, "But... Don't become a problem. I don't want to have to kill you. It would upset Loz, and I hate it when he cries."

Tifa turned away, finally looking out of the window. She stared. The window overlooked a very familiar lake - it was where they'd laid Aeris to rest two years ago.

She laid her head against the curved wall, her breath catching in her throat as the tears began to fall.

Kadaj shrugged and walked away, evidently confident that she would attempt no escape.

He was right.

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	5. Five

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

* * *

* * *

(Five)

* * *

Tifa barely moved for hours, trying to come to grips with the situation. Every time she moved and caught a glimpse of the lake, it was like being stabbed again. Aeris had _believed_. She'd died believing that her friends would succeed. Take care of everything. Save the world.

She wondered if Cloud knew just how bad a job they'd done. Meteor had been repelled, and they'd destroyed Sephiroth's body... but all they'd done was stalled him. It should've been obvious to them; even Hojo had said that Sephiroth's will would not dissipate in the Lifestream. All the information had been right there, and they'd still done the wrong thing.

Cloud quite possibly knew better than any of them, and he'd walked away in silence. Maybe he'd thought that he was protecting them...

She hid her face in her hands again. He wouldn't still be so dense as to try to hide something like this, would he? If he knew what Geostigma really was...

He didn't know. That was the only explanation. If Cloud knew that the plague was from Sephiroth, not the planet, he would've told them, right?

Unless he just didn't care anymore. That didn't seem so unlikely, now. She wondered that it had taken her so long to realize it.

Loz came back eventually, stained and bleeding, leaves in his hair, with a distinct air of satisfaction about him. He stroked her hair, whispered kind things, kissed her with an obvious - though not entirely successful - attempt at gentleness, but finally left her alone again.

She had no response to give. She felt numb. There was nothing left inside, no more tears to cry; she wasn't worth crying over anyway. It all felt unreal - not so much her current surroundings, but the rest of her life. The 7th Heaven, Marlene and Denzel, Cloud's courier business... Any happiness she'd had the past several years was unwarranted. Not for her. Let someone more deserving have a family and a business and friends and the accomplishment of helping to put the world back together. No matter how hard she tried, she could only help to take it apart.

Better to stop trying.

Loz came back, this time healed and cleaned and dressed, and carrying the rest of her clothes. "Almost time to go," he informed her.

Tifa moved as he directed, pulling on her shoes and apron, finally zipping her top up completely. Left lying on the window seat next to her was a scrap of pink ribbon. She'd worn it tied around her arm for the past two years as a remembrance for Aeris.

It was broken and fraying.

She picked it up, stared at the torn edges in her hand for a moment, then tucked it away in a pocket of her apron. She couldn't bear to look at it, even if she couldn't cry any longer.

He took her by the hand and led her outside. She tried hard not to look at Aeris' lake any more than could be helped.

In the clearing, there were two motorcycles, and a truck. The bed of the truck was full of...

Children. Children from Midgar whom she knew to have had Geostigma, though there were no signs of it now, no black-stained bandages, no darkened skin. She stopped in shock, but there was no flicker of recognition on any of their faces; they sat still, eyes downcast, as though mannequins.

"What have you done to them?" She whispered, eyes wide.

"Cured them," Kadaj answered, coming from somewhere behind her to stand next to her. "Not one of them will die of Geostigma, now." He smiled at her, the cold fire in his eyes frighteningly manic.

She tried not to cringe away. There was no point.

"Come on," Loz said, pulling her by her hand toward the cab of the truck. "You're driving." He released her and opened the drivers' side door, motioning her inside.

Again, she stopped. Yazoo was sitting on the passenger side, head propped on his hand; he looked tired. In the middle of the seat sat one of the children - Denzel, with those same dead eyes.

Tifa felt her insides knot up again. "Denzel?" She pulled herself into the truck, taking hold of his arms. "Denzel, what's wrong! Denzel!"

"He won't answer, Little Sister," Yazoo told her. He seemed completely unperturbed at her outburst - hadn't moved at all. "He doesn't care."

Tifa went still, staring into Yazoo's mocking, snake-like eyes. Then she slowly let go of Denzel and sat back, adjusting her position in the drivers' seat. She was bound, tighter than as with ropes. Of course, they'd known from Marlene that she was connected to Denzel; having him here was purely to remind her not to do anything foolish.

She jumped as Loz slammed the truck door beside her. She looked at him, her face grim with the horror of the situation, eyes pleading uselessly. He offered her a smile, reaching through the open window to pat her arm before moving off to one of the motorcycles. Kadaj had already mounted the other, and it started up with a throaty roar.

"Good girl," she heard Yazoo murmur as she reached for the truck's key, which had been left in the ignition. She hesitated; part of her still wanted to snap back, to offer resistance.

Instead, she started up the truck, placing her feet on the pedals, keeping her eyes forward. At a signal from Kadaj, she followed.

There was no point in fighting them. Not now.

It was hours before there was any sound other than the thrum of engines in her ears. She didn't care to watch the truck's speed, instead allowing the pace to be determined by Kadaj on his motorcycle up ahead. There was nothing she could do: no way to escape with the children with Yazoo in the truck, even if he did seem to be asleep - she had no way to incapacitate him; no way to bring a simple end to this without sacrificing Denzel if not all of the children, and none of them deserved to die for her sin. The most that she could do was try to shut down her mind, allowing herself to be mesmerized by the trees flashing by.

"Mind your speed."

Her eyes went wide - she'd been lulled so that she hadn't been paying attention to anything other than Kadaj's taillights gleaming ahead of her in the shadowed valley. She hadn't even realized that she'd been speeding up, and let off the accelerator.

"That's better."

She glanced over at Yazoo, then back to the road. He'd spoken, but his eyes were still closed, his head still propped on his hand just as it had been for the entire ride, completely still but for his hair whipping about his head. She glanced again, and he'd opened his eyes, staring ahead. "The road curves at the end of the valley," he said by way of explanation. "You don't want to try to keep up with Kadaj for that. He likes to take it fast."

Yazoo finally sat up straighter, stretching his arms in front of him, fingers laced together. "We'll stop to rest once we're out of the valley. I'll drive then." He paused, then sighed. "Loz will want you to ride with him."

Tifa stiffened, her gaze drawn to the rear view mirror. Between the strangely still bodies of the kids in the truck bed, she could see Loz on his motorcycle, bringing up the rear.

Yazoo snorted at her. "Oh, like that's so terrible. He's not about to let you get hurt." He said it as though it wouldn't bother _him_ at all if she got hurt.

There it was - the chink in their armor. It occurred to her again that she might be able to divide them, play them off of each other. If she could pit them against each other, she'd have a much better chance of surviving.

It'd be easier if she could just fight them, one at a time, but that wasn't going to happen. Yet. But forming a plan, suddenly finding something to control - that was good. It was a spark in the snow. With luck, it could become a fire...

She ignored the implication that what Loz had already done to her hadn't hurt her. "So I'm his pet, then?" She muttered, finding it easy to fill the comment with bitterness. "And you'd rather have me put down, even with all this 'Little Sister' business."

"Of course _I_ want rid of you, Little Sister," he chuckled, completely unphased. The term didn't seem to hold the meaning for him that it did for Loz or Kadaj. "You're going to try to kill him, or get him killed, if he keeps you long enough. I'm hoping that you'll try to escape before then." He grinned at her, making sure that she saw his hand on his gunblade. "Or the Reunion will take place. Either way, you will _not_ take him from us." His expression was still smug, but his words were cold.

She shivered in spite of herself. "Why let him have me at all, then?" She prodded. It seemed like he wasn't going to move against her unless she tried to escape, because of his brother's wishes. If she could incite him enough, he might try to talk to Loz about it when they stopped. Maybe she could get them to fight...

"To deny him his physicality would be to deny his existence."

She blinked. She'd thought that she might make him angry, but that answer, delivered so calmly... made no sense to her at all. She considered asking him to explain, but Yazoo had folded his arms and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. Evidently, he considered the conversation to be over.

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	6. Six

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

* * *

* * *

(Six)

* * *

The trees - grey, by daylight - ended, and there was a narrow space with rocky slopes rising on either side. After a moment, that, too, vanished, and forests stretched out below, with the glimmer of ocean far to the south.

Tifa slowed, watching for the curve that Yazoo had warned her about. Kadaj had already pulled ahead, recklessly tearing down the slope toward the trees. Loz shot around the truck, jumping much of the slope with a feral cry. He nearly lost control of the motorcycle as he landed, but managed to catch up to his brother, who pulled to a halt at the tree line, next to a ravine.

She carefully took the slope, following the barely-discernable trail that might have been a road in the time of the Ancients. Without the wide space between trees, it was nearly invisible.

She remembered coming this way before, so hopeful, desperate to catch up to Aeris, still thinking that Cloud was leading them in chasing Sephiroth instead of being summoned by him.

She pulled up to the edge of the woods and shut down the truck. These trees seemed dim and stunted in comparison to those back in the valley, brown-barked and green-leafed rather than tall slender silver.

She felt out-of-synch with the world. For her, everything had changed, but these forests were the same as they'd always been.

It smelled lush and damp here, more... alive than the forest at the Forgotten Capital had been. The air was still cool, though. The sunlight came through the leaves in patches and speckles, beams shining in the misty air. There was a stillness to the scene such as only deep nature could provide, the silence broken only by birdsong and the whisper of water flowing in the ravine, and even those sounds seemed to be muffled.

Hands still on the steering wheel, Tifa turned to Denzel beside her. It would have been wonderful to share these beautiful places with him, and Marlene too, under different circumstances. One of the last true, comfortable conversations she'd had with Cloud, he'd suggested that they journey again, with the children this time. After things settled down more, he said, and there were fewer monsters. He'd wanted them to be happy, to know some of the beautiful things in the world, not just what was left of Midgar.

That had been at least a year ago.

As it was, she didn't think that Denzel was really... there... at this point - even if she could get him out of this somehow, he probably wouldn't remember a bit of this, if he even recovered.

And she knew she didn't have a chance of fighting and protecting Denzel, much less the rest of the children, at the same time. She doubted that Kadaj or Yazoo would think twice before killing one of the kids just to get her attention. If she could simply run, though - if she wasn't there to see - they might leave the kids alone...

Loz opened the door, extending his hand to help her out of the cab. Yazoo was already climbing out the other side, stretching like a cat. Kadaj was passing a couple of water canteens to the children in the back of the truck, who drank and passed them on, moving like nothing so much as puppets on strings.

Tifa shuddered and looked away, ignoring the offered hand as she slid out of the truck. She refused to look Loz in the face at all. He slowly lowered his hand, frowning with confusion. The ground felt oddly still beneath her feet after driving for so long; it took her a moment to find her land-legs again.

Yazoo and Kadaj were on the far side of the truck. The kids would probably be all right - she wasn't the determining factor in what happened to them, she realized. Loz had said that they hadn't intended to kidnap her at all, which meant that to some extent, those children were of more importance than she was. Even hurting Denzel would be pointless if she weren't there to witness it, so he'd probably be all right too. All she needed was for Loz to be distracted, and she could try to run. She might be able to reach the Bone Village on her own, contact someone from there...

The hope that the possibility of escape roused in her barely seemed worth the pain of wondering if she deserved it. But old habits were hard to break. If she could get away, she could at least warn Cloud...

Warn him of what? That his current enemies were on the move? He probably knew that, and it was debatable whether or not he'd do anything about it at this point. Whether he _could_ do anything about it. What did it matter, what she did?

But then Loz turned his back on her, handing his own canteen to Denzel. The window of opportunity was too small for further consideration - either she ran now, or she didn't.

Tifa bolted. She leapt into the ravine, stumbling down the steep slope as fast as she could, feet slipping on the mossy stone. Between the incline and the foliage and the time it would take Yazoo to draw his weapon and get around the truck, she had a chance. She splashed into the rocky stream at the bottom, began to run downstream-

She caught a blur of light and motion from the corner of her eye just before Loz appeared in front of her, half-crouching, arms flung wide for her. She'd forgotten about his use of Haste.

That was _enough_. "Cut that out!" She shouted, throwing her weight onto one leg just before she ran into him and pivoting, landing a blow to the side of his head with her steel-toed boot. If he'd thought that she might attack him, he shouldn't have given her boots back.

He staggered aside, stunned, and she leapt to a boulder jutting from the ravine wall, pushing off of it to fling herself back and catch his neck in the crook of her arm. The shallow water exploded as she threw him down.

She barely got two steps away before he was up again, legs spinning as he pushed into a handstand before flipping upright. She avoided his legs, but he was still spinning as he came up, a fist coming at her. She partially blocked, twisting to the side so that the blow only glanced from her shoulder, even as she brought one arm up to guard against his other fist and throw her own punch with the other.

She needed distance. At the first opportunity, she flipped backward twice, opening space between them. He ran at her, lunged; she danced aside, bringing her leg up stomp down hard on him when he stumbled instead of hitting her. But he didn't stumble - he turned in the air, catching her raised foot and throwing her into the side of the ravine as he skidded shoulders-first into the water.

Tifa caught herself with her hands, rolled almost vertically upward on the steep slope, and catapulted backward. Her hands caught his shoulders as he stood, and she brought her legs down, kicking off of his back hard enough to send him sprawling again as she back-flipped to land several feet away. The water sprayed, hung in the sunbeam-streaked air like diamonds. Time itself seemed to be suspended, her mind working faster than physical reaction.

She realized, as he stood, that he could easily end this. He had Haste, he had his gauntlet, he had his gunblade. It would be over quickly, if he so chose - just as quickly as when he'd stopped _playing_ in the church.

But it seemed that he wouldn't, this time. He pulled himself up, grinning broadly, eyes locked on hers. He unfastened the gunblade in its holster and tossed it onto the slope, followed by the gauntlet, as though he read her thoughts. He was enjoying this too much.

She waited, breathing hard, fists raised and ready. It didn't matter that she had but to run past him to escape. That was no longer the point - he'd just use his Materia again if she ran. If she fought him, she had the chance to wipe that smug smile off of his face. For good.

The moment he moved toward her, she rushed at him, ducking low and punching him in the stomach. He grunted, surprised, but grabbed at her as she dodged around behind him, catching her arm and dragging her back before she could jab her other elbow into his lower back. Unbalanced, she stumbled forward, thrown face-down into the water in front of him.

She gasped and raised her head, hair clinging to her face, as he tried to pull her up by her arm again. She rolled to her back, bracing her shoulders on the creek bed - her face underwater - and kicked blindly with both feet, overbalancing him and throwing him over her head before coming up for air.

She scrambled to her feet, quickly pushing her hair from her face, breathing hard. She couldn't run, not yet. Not until he was down and not going to get up. She'd done it before, and he seemed perfectly foolish enough to let it happen again.

She wanted him down more than she wanted to run now, anyway.

She ran at him again as he stood, screaming as she struck. For each blow he blocked, she hit harder with the next. She didn't even realize how fierce her cries became with each punch.

Her world narrowed to one thought alone: her opponent _would_ fall.

He was on the defensive, falling back, barely able to keep his footing on the smooth stones of the streambed. He was still grinning, teeth bared like a wild animal, but then -

The world... changed, for just a moment. Flashed. Colors were suddenly more vibrant than they should be, scents overpowering and intoxicating, the sound of the flowing water a roar drowned out by their breath. The gentle sunbeams illuminating the ravine were searing shafts of energy. One thunderous heartbeat, two -

He made eye contact, and... something changed. The smile faded, his eyes widened - something in her face caught him off guard, shocked him.

And then the moment passed, leaving behind only... rage.

Self-control, blocking his attacks, keeping strength reserved so as to outlast her opponent - these were things that she was trained to do, so ingrained in her fighting style that she took them for granted. Things that she'd do if she cared to live. Things that just didn't seem to matter now. The only thing that mattered was hurting Loz as much as she could until one of them stopped breathing, regardless of consequences.

She forced him back, downstream, well out of sight of the others... until he was down. He fell hard against the flat top of a boulder bigger than the truck, unable to do more than grunt as his head struck the stone. But he stayed conscious, arms up, still protecting himself -

She leapt on him, forcing his arms open and flat against the stone, straddling him. She had him. All she had to do was bring her knee down hard on his chest, hear his ribs crack beneath the blow, watch him struggle as his lungs collapsed...

He knew. He had to. He looked up at her, panting through gritted teeth. She thought that she could see the shade of fear in his luminous eyes.

"Your eyes... beautiful," he growled, lips twisting at the corners again.

She released one of his arms and brought her knee down on it to hold it again. And then she drew her fist back and punched him in the face.

His entire body twitched with the blow, his head jerking aside. It took him a moment to gasp again, but in that moment, she caught it - with his face in shadow, this close, she saw the slight green glow that briefly played over his skin.

He was using Regen. No matter how much she hit him, it would only take him a moment to recover from each blow.

No. He wasn't going to get out of this. She hit him again, and again - she was sure that she could hurt him faster than the spell could heal him, if she tried hard enough. Her other hand gripped his upper arm tightly, fingernails digging into his leather jacket. He kicked, trying to find purchase on the stone to lift himself and throw her off, but failing.

She was slowing down; she knew it and she couldn't stop it, exhaustion creeping up on her. But she couldn't stop. Not now. She wanted him to stop moving beneath her, stop the sounds he made with each strike, stop breathing, stop _letting her hit him_. She wanted him dead. She wanted him-

She wasn't sure how it happened. Somehow, she'd ducked her head down, and pressed her lips against his.

She broke away as soon as she realized what she'd done, still out of breath, just barely coming down from her rage enough to be horrified by her action. How the hell did that happen?

His body was slack beneath her, only his breath moving him against her now. He stared up at her, lips parted slightly, brow furrowed.

For a long moment, they only stared at each other.

And then she was kissing him again, crouched over him, her knee slipping from his arm. Her hands moved of their own accord, pulling his jacket open to rest against his bare chest, his heart beating fast beneath her fingers. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, accepting his in response, his freed hands moving to unzip her vest, then slide up underneath her shirt. He heaved beneath her again, and she shifted lower, centering herself against him.

And then their hands were moving frantically, tearing at each others' waistbands, and she was kicking her shorts free with her apron lying over the both of them, and he was pushing into her, and nothing else in the world mattered.

* * *

"Well?" Kadaj sat at the edge of the ravine, arms wrapped around his knees, one of the canteens hanging listlessly from his hand.

Yazoo made his way back up the slope, turning to sit next to his brother when he reached the top. His expression was unreadable. "Give them twenty minutes."

Kadaj passed him the canteen, then shifted closer and tilted his head, laying it against his elder brother's arm and closing his eyes.

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	7. Seven

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

* * *

* * *

(Seven)

* * *

There were a few minutes, just after, when it had been the right thing to do. She was still then, and he likewise beneath her. Her body trembled as the adrenalin drained away.

Tifa slowly brought her breath under control again, focusing on her hands on his chest, afraid to look elsewhere. The sun coming through the forest canopy seemed burning hot, punctuated by the freezing leaf-shadows; the wind blew high above, causing the patterns of hot and cold to ebb and flow as a tide. The birds sang softly, the sound of the water flowing by the boulder perfect and peaceful. She felt as though she were underwater, drifting away, drifting down like Aeris' body when Cloud let her go...

This Could Not Be Happening.

The fire was gone, and she was merely cold and dripping wet and sore and uncomfortable. She pushed away from him, almost dizzy as she got her feet beneath her and stood. She grabbed up her shorts and stumbled away to sit on the edge of the boulder to try to get them back on without removing her boots. She wasn't entirely sure how she'd gotten them off in the first place.

She tried as hard as she could to simply act, and not think at all. Thinking meant accepting what she'd just done - completely of her own accord...

Loz lay still behind her a little longer, but finally pulled himself up, adjusting his clothing as his own breathing eased. She stiffened, becoming more disgusted with herself by the second, certain that he'd try to embrace her. What the hell had she done...

But he didn't. He moved near, coming up behind her, but only leaned forward and rested his forehead at the back of her shoulder.

She made no move, her arms propped at her sides. She only stared down at the stones and water at her feet. The water broke at the toes of her boots, moving around her and leaving her behind. Nothing she did would stop the world from breaking and flowing away from her as she drifted down...

"It hurts," Loz whispered.

Tifa's eyes widened, and she turned her head slightly, enough to see his body slouched behind and beside her. She found herself holding her breath, uncertain.

"Being torn in two," he went on, his breath catching and thoughts broken, as though he wasn't even aware that he was putting them into words. "We have to find Mother, we can't be apart, it hurts to be apart. But the Reunion... We'll become one... We won't exist any more... I don't want to end, I like _being_..."

"Are you crying, Brother?"

Tifa gasped. Yazoo was standing in the wide and shallow stream, as still as though he were a tree that had grown there, a black slash crowned with silver in the sun-misted air. From her position, it appeared that the water flowed through his feet, unbroken and unrippling, as though he wasn't there. She was sure that it was just an unnerving illusion.

Loz pulled away from her and straightened, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. He didn't answer.

Yazoo crossed the distance between them quickly, so graceful that the water barely rippled at his passing. Loz pushed himself forward as Yazoo stopped in front of the boulder, and Yazoo held his brother's head against his chest, laying his arms over his back and running his fingers through his short hair. Loz wrapped his arms around his brother's slender waist, hiding his face.

Tifa only stared, confused - feeling as though she were witnessing something that wasn't meant for her to see at all. She shrank back; Yazoo seemed to sense the motion, lifting his eyes to meet hers.

His eyes were terrifying. The way he glared at her made it even more obvious - he wanted her dead.

She looked away, swallowing nervously. For the sake of something to distract, she fastened her top, then pulled at her hair, running her fingers through and wringing as much water from it as she could. Getting up and moving away would only make Yazoo watch her, and she didn't want to chance meeting those eyes again if she could help it.

She should've killed Loz. She'd had his life in her hands, had even thought for a moment that she _was_ going to kill him. Instead, she had...

When he'd forced himself on her, it hadn't been the same. There had been no fire consuming her mind, only cold detachment. She'd been able to tell herself that it didn't matter. It was only her body, right?

This time... had been entirely different, and she couldn't figure out why it had happened at all. It shouldn't have happened. He should be dead. It made no sense. She shouldn't have enjoyed it, and she sure as hell shouldn't have _started_ it.

But Loz had been happy to comply. And Yazoo hated her for it.

At least, she thought, she was succeeding in dividing them, right?

Why did she feel bad about that now?

And then the moment was over. Loz stood, pushing himself off of the boulder as Yazoo stood aside. He hooked his arms around her waist and lifted her up, smiling up at her before setting her on her feet again. "Come on," he said, taking her hand. "You can ride with me."

She could only try to keep up.

* * *

The saving grace of riding on the motorcycle behind Loz, Tifa reflected, was that there was no attempt at conversation. There was no way to hear each other over the rush of wind, so neither of them tried. All she had to do was hang on to him, and she was left alone with her thoughts.

At first, before he'd started up the bike, she'd laid her hands on his shoulders. He'd said nothing, only took her hands in his and moved them lower, pulling her arms around his waist. She'd given up, leaned into him, lay her head against his back. There was no longer any point in resisting. She'd destroyed even that dignity.

As he'd walked to his own bike, Kadaj had stared at her, too. Whereas Yazoo's gaze had been full of the promise of pain, Kadaj only seemed... troubled.

She hadn't been able to meet his eyes for long, either.

She laid her cheek against the black leather of Loz's jacket, watching as the trees whipped by. The post of her earring jabbed into her as the bike jolted over the uneven ground, but she didn't care. She hoped that the small pain would keep her from sinking too far into thought.

The road they followed might have only been a space between trees that their repeated travels through had cleared of undergrowth. She'd no idea of where they were going, other than south; the Bone Village was far to the west, so far as she could tell.

She didn't know what to do. She could accept that there was neither escape nor rescue for her; the single chance she'd had, she'd squandered on a petty attempt at vengeance - or perhaps mere self-gratification - which only further indicated her worthlessness.

Her mind kept wandering back to what she'd done, no matter how hard she tried not to think about it. It had felt good. Better than the act had any right to feel, in these circumstances. It had been like freedom, as though it was something that she'd _chosen_ to do...

...Even if she was certain that the choice hadn't been hers.

She turned her head, pressing her forehead into his shoulders; he shifted a little, making it easier for her to lean on him.

She squeezed her eyes shut. It was like riding with Cloud, right down to his responsiveness.

She wondered if that was what Loz wanted. If it was jealousy that spurred his interest in her. If he'd seen her riding with his "older brother" one of those few times last year when she'd still been close enough to Cloud for him to want to take her riding with him. If he'd seen and wanted that closeness for himself...

That illusion of closeness...

Cloud must've sensed all along that she wasn't meant to be part of his happily-ever-after. Whatever ever-after he had left at this point... She'd only been a distraction, keeping him from the peace he deserved...

He didn't love her. He might have, once, but even after Meteor, she'd only been a poor substitute for what he couldn't have - Aeris. He'd tired of her, tired of pretending, even tired of their make-believe family, and had drifted away - gone to where he could be closer to the memory of the girl he loved.

And poor Marlene and Denzel were left trying to make a family out of them all. At least they'd still have Barret and the others to take them in... Assuming that Marlene was even still alive, and that Denzel would survive...

Nothing had turned out the way it was supposed to, and it was because of her. If she'd just told Cloud about his memories, things would have gone differently. Aeris mightn't have died. Cloud would have become stronger more quickly, and he'd be happy now. Maybe, with Aeris to help, they could've _contained_ Sephiroth instead of freeing him in the Lifestream; it had been the only way that the Ancients had been able to neutralize Jenova, after all. And then there would be no Geostigma slowly killing off everyone who'd survived Meteor. Cloud wouldn't be broken and dying.

It was all her fault.

Everything was ending.

But maybe she could at least try to stop it from ending with Jenova.

She slid her arms tighter around Loz, turning her head to the side again. She would give him this illusion, if that was what he wanted. She would make him hers. If she kept him distracted, kept him from joining this Reunion... it would be incomplete, weaker, easier to defeat.

Rejected by the planet, this was all she could do to help.

Loz briefly laid his arm over hers, folding his gloved hand around her fingers for a moment before he needed both hands to steer again.

The wind dried her tears.

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	8. Eight

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

If anyone has a better idea for a summary than what I have, by all means, let me know. I'm not so fond of it, but I'm totally blanking on the subject. oO (PM me from my author profile.)

And, many thanks to all for the reviews!

I love hearing what readers think. (I guess most authors do.) ;-)

* * *

* * *

(Eight)

* * *

It was sunset when they stopped again, driving out of the trees to arrive on a high bluff. The ocean could be seen again to the south, closer, but still at least an hour off.

Loz pulled up next to Kadaj, shutting off the bike as Yazoo stopped the truck behind them.

"We're running late," Kadaj said, his voice neutral. The look he gave Loz was very faintly amused.

"Hn," Loz looked away rather quickly. "Sorry." Somehow, his tone of voice didn't quite carry the sentiment. He sat back, his hands moving to cover Tifa's around his waist.

Tifa straightened, pulling her arms away - but he twisted, swinging one leg over the bike to dismount and turning to face her. He brushed at her wind-dried hair with one hand, tucking it behind her ear with a soft smile.

It was too easy to accept this now - the way he acted, like teenager who couldn't stop touching the object of his affections. It felt like that mightn't be too far from the truth for him, for all that he seemed to be older than she was. The sincerity was troubling.

"We have another hour or so to the coast. There's a cove there with a ship we used before." He stood, stretching his arms over his head; Tifa hopped to the ground, glad of the opportunity to change position. He pulled his canteen from a compartment on the bike, offering it to her first. "Thirsty?"

Kadaj was still on his bike, but he was lying back with his hands behind his head, his legs propped on the handlebars. Behind them, the door of the truck opened as Yazoo came out to stretch as well. The children in the truck remained where they sat with their unnatural stillness; Denzel was still in the cab of the truck, eyes glazed and unseeing.

Loz moved off to help with passing water to the kids. He glanced back at her several times, smiled at her - perhaps still a little concerned that she'd try to run again. But there was no point in running any more, much less in trying to flee here, where there was no cover. She only leaned against the bike, her legs stretched in front of her to counteract the stiffness from riding for so long.

She rubbed her arms, shivering a little, staring south toward the ocean. The wind came from the north, bearing the memory of the snowfields, and the Northern Crater beyond...

She closed her eyes, her hair streaming in the wind and hiding her face. There didn't seem to be anything left for her but frightening, painful memories, with worse to come.

He was suddenly at her side again, trailing an arm low across her as he passed by. He straddled the bike, relaxing and leaning back on his hands, before turning his head to look past her.

She followed his gaze. He was watching the sunset. The sky was mostly overcast, but the sun had found a hole to peer through, making the clouds blaze in shades of pink and orange that were so bright that they seemed unreal. The light that reached them cast everything in a strange golden color.

Tifa jumped - Loz had leaned forward again, running his bare hand over her upper arm, then her cheek. He'd removed his gloves to do so.

"You seem so sad," he murmured when she turned to him.

She couldn't respond. She looked away again.

"You weren't, before..." He brushed her hair away from her shoulder. "I want to see you that way again."

She closed her eyes, steeling herself and reminding herself that she _wanted_ him distracted.

His arms snaked around her and he pulled her closer, moving to graze his lips along her neck. She stiffened, instinctively tilting her head away, but it only encouraged him. He nuzzled her ear, tongue flicking out briefly; she shivered.

Sitting upright on his bike again, Kadaj made a small coughing noise. Loz instantly backed off, releasing her and sliding forward to allow her room to mount behind him as he pulled his gloves back on.

She looked over at the other motorcycle as her arms encircled Loz's waist again. Kadaj was waiting. He made eye contact with her - not quite glaring, but his eyes narrowed when he looked at her. She swallowed nervously, with a nearly inexplicable pang of guilt.

She looked away, growing angry with herself again. She was _not_ the one who should be feeling guilty here.

The truck started up, and she glanced toward it. Yazoo was watching them as well, his face impassive. Denzel's bowed head was visible next to him.

She shuddered, arms tightening. It seemed to her that these three formed a more cohesive family than she, Cloud, and the children ever had.

At least breaking a family was something that she'd done once already.

Loz started the motorcycle, and they were off again.

HR

Tifa pulled herself closer to Loz, peering over his shoulder, eyes stinging from their speed. The dim afterglow from the sun's setting revealed the coast, very close now.

They suddenly swerved, running parallel to the coast, and she saw why - the bluffs were ending in tumbling cliffs. Kadaj led them between two outcrops of rock, and then they were descending those cliffs at an angle, heading for a cove a few miles off.

The truck was already stopped at the base of the cliffs by the time they pulled up on the motorcycle. A little ways off shore was a large, aging ferry, half-rusted but evidently still seaworthy. She didn't want to imagine how they'd gotten a hold of it.

The children were climbing off of the truck, even helping each other down. Kadaj, his motorcycle stopped a little ways away, motioned them toward him. As one, they approached him, then bent and dug into the sand - and lifted a thick chain.

Loz and Yazoo made their way over as well, helping the children lift and pull the chain. Slowly, they began to draw the ship closer to shore.

Tifa realized that she was alone now, standing next to the still-warm motorcycle. It crossed her mind that she could take it and flee...

A small hand took hers. She jumped, looking down, and her blood ran cold. Denzel held her hand. He looked up at her with eyes that had never been his, Mako-green and slit-pupiled. The sea wind whipped his short hair about his face, and he didn't blink.

Tifa looked away, but tightened her hand around his. There were plenty of adults in Midgar who suffered from Geostigma. Why had Kadaj wanted these children, instead of stronger bodies? Perhaps it was only for the sake using them as shields, keeping any opposition away for fear of hurting them...

The back of the ferry dropped open, splashing down into the shallow water and forming a ramp for entry. Yazoo backed the truck in as the children brought in the motorcycles. Denzel silently pulled Tifa inside with him, and the ramp was pulled shut again.

For a moment it was cold and black inside the hold, but then a few dull electric lights flickered to life. From somewhere within, there came the hum of a generator.

Tifa glanced about. The ship seemed to have been stripped down for the most part, as though everything of value had been traded off as necessary; even interior panels of metal were missing. Besides the vehicles, the only other things in the hold were a tarp-covered stack of what looked like fuel containers, and several old-looking crates of Shinra military rations.

She caught a movement from the corner of her eye, and focused on it. There was a hallway leading further into the ship, full of shadows - there was one light far down toward its other end, but it didn't help much. What caught her eye was two of the shadows...

It was Loz and Yazoo, standing very close together. Loz had one hand braced against the opposite wall, as though he'd blocked Yazoo from proceeding down the corridor. He was saying something; their faces were too shadowed for her to see their expressions from her position. Perhaps Yazoo had complained about her...

Or not. Yazoo moved closer still, tilting his head back, and...

Oh. No wonder Yazoo hated her.

"Once we're out to sea, eat, refuel the vehicles, and rest," Kadaj was instructing the empty-eyed children as he made his way toward a stairwell. He seemed... a little tired, strained somehow. "Keep watch in shifts."

Denzel released her hand, moving off toward the rations with the other kids. She shivered as he pulled away from her, watching him go.

"He's fine," Loz said, appearing next to her and noting her gaze. "It's easier this way. They don't have anything to worry about." He put an arm around her waist, pulling her toward the stairs with him. "Come on, Yazoo's going to cast off."

She went with him, her feet moving almost of their own accord. It was only a small part of her, now, that wished that he'd stop touching her. For the most part, it seemed to be too much effort to care. It wasn't as though her body was worth anything anymore - it was just a tainted vessel that she might still be able to use to help the planet. It was only a matter of time before she met her death, be it at the hands of one of the Clones, or by the Geostigma that they'd cursed her with - and there was no sense fighting what didn't matter.

Loz took her up onto the deck, around to the bow, where Kadaj and Yazoo seemed to be waiting, looking back to them. The sky was clearing; moonlight had taken up where sunlight had left off.

As soon as they were within sight, Kadaj turned away, looking out over the water expectantly. Yazoo tilted his head, smiling at Loz as he raised his hand, eyes barely passing over Tifa, ignoring her.

A pinprick glow pulsed in his forearm, then grew, flaring into green light that sent tendrils of flame coursing over his hand. And then he looked away, out to sea, and thrust out his hand.

Pale fire arced out, striking the water, which swelled in response as though being pulled. The sea surged into the cove as though in a sudden tide, violently rocking the ship. Tifa staggered, trying to keep her footing, forced to cling to Loz for support; Loz merely reached out to steady himself on the deck railing, pulling her closer. Kadaj had gone so far as to sit on the railing, unperturbed. Yazoo alone stood free, closing his fist around the light as if reigning in a chocobo.

There was a scraping sound, then a loud metallic clang - the ship had lifted free of the sandy bottom, and been pushed back to bump the cliff face.

With a flick of his wrist, Yazoo sent the ferry out, the wave quickly carrying it beyond the confines of the cove and out into the sea. The light faded, flames wisping away into nothing. He lowered his arm, smiling in satisfaction, his long hair flying in the wind.

"You'd better not have done more damage to this thing," Kadaj laughed to Yazoo. "After that dent Loz left in the ramp last time -"

"You _said_ to push it out into the water," Loz grumbled. "Not my fault if the metal can't take it."

Kadaj led the way into the boat house, which seemed to already be set up as their den, much as the room in the seashell-house in the Forgotten Capital had been - sleeping pallet, a few crates, and not much else. Kadaj checked the wheel at the end of the room - it seemed to have already been locked in its course, from what Tifa could tell - as Yazoo opened one of the crates and dug through its contents. Loz sat cross-legged on the floor, pulling her down with him; she sat on her knees, keeping as close to him as she could.

She jumped when something landed next to her leg - Yazoo had thrown her a Shinra ration pack. She glanced at him as he sat at an angle opposite Loz, folding his legs in exactly the same manner, passing a similar food pack to his brother, and another to Kadaj as he joined them as well, completing the circle. He didn't meet her eyes - as though he didn't want to let Loz see the way he looked at her. Kadaj seemed to be ignoring her, too.

The rations were old, but packaged well enough that they were still quite edible. She merely ate, trying to ignore them as they talked to each other and laughed with each other and traded food, painfully aware that she was here as an accessory and little else.

She remembered sitting around the campfire with the others, eating whatever they'd hunted or brought with them from the last town, discussing what they'd learned that day. Or what they hoped to do the next day. Or telling each other stories. Or just... being together. She remembered Cait Sith insisting that he read Yuffie's palm and coming up with such an outrageous fortune that she yanked him off his moogle by the scruff of his neck and threw him as far as she could into the tall grass. She remembered Cid trying to drag more of Vincent's past out of him; it was like pulling teeth, but Cid seemed to regard it as a hobby after a while, and Vincent never denied him - just gave the most vague and evasive answers he possibly could. She remembered Red XIII telling them old stories of his people, wanting them - his friends - to know the tales because, being the last of his kind, he'd never have cubs to tell them to. She remembered sitting close to Cloud, Aeris at his other side, watching him blush when they both slipped their arms around him, laughing like kids, with Barret telling them to give the poor guy a break.

She remembered lying on the hillside with Cloud, still hand in hand, staring up at the red sky with Meteor slowly bearing down on the planet. Wondering if this was all there'd ever be even as he moved closer and brought their bodies together again, his mind far away even then.

Back when she'd still been worth something. Back when she could've still been redeemed, if she hadn't been so self-centered.

"Why the monument, though?" Loz broke in on her thoughts. "He wouldn't have just left her there -"

"It doesn't matter where she really is," Yazoo explained, shrugging. "The monument's in the middle of things. People everywhere. With enough casualties, he's bound to give her back."

Kadaj nodded. "He can't lie this time, not and expect to have a city left. Can't wait to try some of those Summons..." He grinned, the light in his eyes from more than just residual Mako. Tifa averted her eyes and shrank away, but listened as closely as she could. They didn't seem to care what she heard.

Loz sounded unconvinced. "I still think we should just beat him up. He lied to get us to go after Older Brother. We should pay him back for that."

"It _would_ be nice to hear him beg," Yazoo murmured. "He doesn't even beg for his Turks' lives..." He tilted his head back, shaking his hair away from his face. "You're sure that he really has her? I know that he just set us onto Older Brother to try to get himself a better bodyguard, but... Is he that unwise, to hold out for so long? He _has_ to know that we're going to attack. He knows we took the children."

There was silence for a moment. When Kadaj spoke, his voice was soft and faraway, like he was listening to something else and speaking was a distraction. "He has Mother," he said. "She's closer when we're near him. It isn't just his Geostigma. He's too afraid of us to not have her." And then he was suddenly back, his voice strong and close again. "He'll give her to us. We're going to end this tomorrow, one way or another."

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	9. Nine

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

* * *

* * *

(Nine)

* * *

It wasn't long after that Loz stood and took Tifa's hand, pulling her with him out onto the deck again, leaving his weapons inside. There was no land in sight now; the ship was surrounded by nothing but dark sea and cloud-shrouded sky. The moon seemed to have disappeared, leaving little but the yellow electric light spilling from the steering house to provide illumination.

He didn't waste time. He barely had her out of sight of the door before he'd pushed her against the wall, hands at her waist, his body falling into a rhythm against hers. She barely had time to react before he was kissing her, fierce and invasive and demanding.

She couldn't help it, no matter what her plans were. Her hands came up, pushing against him as she tried to break away. "I- wait, I -"

He pulled back with a wolfish smile, stilling himself. "Would you like to fight again first?"

Tifa blinked, a little stunned. "I... what?"

He laughed, releasing her and backing away. "Not much else to do just now," he shrugged. "No weapons, no Materia. No going overboard or sinking the boat." He was... expectant. Playful. He looked nothing like his brothers when he smiled - not frightening, at least not in the same way. He looked...

She wasn't about to let herself finish that thought. Instead, she frowned, remembering how the last couple of fights with him had gone, for the most part. "You... want me to beat you up?"

He laughed again. "Well, you look so good doing it..." He raised his fists, sinking into a more balanced stance.

Tifa eyed him cautiously as she raised her own fists, the wall at her back. Part of her... wanted to laugh back, and call him a cocky bastard and tell him that if he went overboard it'd be his own fault.

It frightened her, that she could even consider such a response.

"If that's what you want," she said quietly, tilting her head so that the wind would catch her hair and keep it out of her view. She kept her eyes locked on him. "Come get some."

He rushed at her almost before she'd finished speaking, and he expected it when she tried to slip to the side. He twisted before he hit the wall, the impact of his shoulders knocking rust loose, and caught hold of her vest. He threw her into the deck hard enough to dent the metal.

Tifa gasped, but collected herself quickly enough to roll aside before his fist came down, punching another dent into the metal where she'd just been. She was able to kick his side hard enough to send him down, and with a leap, stomped him down with both feet.

He grunted at the added impact, but quickly brought his legs up to clamp around her waist so as to fling her off of him. She sensed the motion and threw herself back at the same time, catching herself with her hands to complete the flip as he released and rolled out of the way.

The sky rumbled, the wind picking up and the waves becoming more forceful. The moon was still hidden - she could barely see him, but for the glow of his eyes. But she knew that he was smiling.

They circled, drew nearer, swatted at each other experimentally, all the while trying to read the each other's next move. Tifa dropped into a leg-sweep, but Loz jumped away. He punched; she caught his arm and threw him onto his back again, but was unable to distance herself quickly enough and took his kick to her side. Rather than resist, she let the force send her flying - less damage that way - and tumbled to a halt at the railing.

Tifa picked herself up with her back to the railing, breathing hard, hair hiding her face. For a second, she was wide open.

Loz... held back, momentarily uncertain.

Her head snapped up, the wind blowing her hair back. Her face was contorted in anger. _How **dare** he hesitate!_

She screamed as she rushed at him, punching repeatedly, fast enough that he missed blocking one of her hits and took it in the face. He jerked aside; this time, he was unprepared for the leg-sweep, and he went down again. He couldn't move away fast enough to avoid the stomp to his knee, but he twisted enough to keep the blow from breaking any bones, kicking Tifa aside at the same time.

There was a flash, and cracking and rumbling from above - lightning and thunder again, more insistent this time. The first drops of rain began to fall.

She didn't go down, instead grabbing his leg as she blocked and flinging him across the deck with a feral roar. He nearly skidded under the railing and off the side, but caught himself just in time.

She was coming for him - not running, but _walking_, eyes intent and gleaming strangely, fists at her sides. This was _power_.

There was another flash of lightning, the rain becoming heavier as the thunder followed. In the wake of the lightning's white-out glare, she could see him clearly, hear his panting - his heartbeat - over the rattle of the rain on metal. She could see him, the roiling ocean behind him, the flakes of rust plastered to his clothing, every drop of rain. She could see _everything_.

He pulled himself further onto the deck, stumbling to his feet, his shoulder-guards hanging loose from a broken strap. He pulled them away, tossing them aside as he raised his eyes to her. Grinning.

His eyes were brighter than the lightning, and his voice was warm, inviting venom. "Having fun yet?"

She struck first, then again and again, unable to understand why his movements had become so slow. He could barely block her at all now, it seemed. She wondered why he couldn't keep up, why he couldn't hear where the next strike was coming from by the sound of the rain on her fists as she could. His back was to the railing, the waves crashing higher and higher on the sides of the ferry behind him. The ship bucked beneath them, and neither seemed to notice, automatically adjusting to balance.

She landed a blow, then another, knocking the wind out of him. Loz grunted and tried to keep from doubling over, but failed - largely because she grabbed the back of his head and smashed his face into her knee.

Tifa took a step back as he crumpled, making a choking sound. The rain was soaking her clothing; she spared a moment to cast off her apron before it began to weigh her down too much. She wanted to be able to move. She needed to _move,_ before the power building up inside her destroyed her. The storm raging around them was _nothing_ in comparison.

In that moment of distraction, he was up again, lunging forward. His two-fisted strike sent her backward -

- But she neither fell nor lost control, skidding to a stop on the wet metal, leaning forward with one hand to help brace herself and the other already raised to strike.

They were on opposite sides of the deck, nearly as far apart as they could get. She looked up just in time to see Loz throwing himself down, punching hard into the floor. The shockwave headed straight for her, metal panels buckling and rivets flying.

Tifa drew herself up, angled her foot, and stomped back.

The two forces collided. The deck panel where they met flew upward with a metallic screech, momentarily separating them.

Tifa ran two steps and jumped, kicking the panel before it fell. It flipped through the air; Loz spun to one side, the metal mere inches from striking him. He continued the spin as she came at him, throwing as much force as possible into his punch -

She caught his fist, her hand closing over his, stopping him cold. Before he could react, his head was knocked back by a vicious uppercut from her other hand. He barely had time to stagger backward - she took hold of his jacket and threw him.

Loz hit the wall of the steering house upside-down, leaving a dent behind as he slumped.

He'd hardly pulled himself to his knees by the time she reached him. Tifa kicked at his side, forcing him up against the wall, then closed her left hand around his neck and, bracing his body against the wall, _lifted him above her head_.

He tried to speak, but her hold on his throat was too tight. He could only grit his teeth, gloved hands unable to catch at hers enough to pry her loose, feet feebly kicking and unable to find purchase.

And she only looked up at him, tilting her head slightly, rain soaked hair plastered to her face. Completely detached, she wondered how long it would take him to strangle under his own weight, and what she would do to his corpse.

Next to Tifa's ear, there was a distinct _click_.

She looked away from Loz's face, slowly turning her head. Yazoo stood next to them, leaning against the wall, thin and ghostly pale without his coat on. His head was tilted to keep his rain-soaked hair from his eyes, his gaze and faintly mocking smile entirely for Tifa now. His gunblade was cocked and aimed at her head.

"He's right, Little Sister, those eyes really do suit you," he murmured, his own eyes hard and threatening despite the conversational tone of voice. "But you need to put my brother down. Now."

Tifa considered throwing Loz into him - it would knock the inevitable shot aside, so that wouldn't be a problem. But as she turned back to Loz, she caught the reflection of her face in the shining blade.

Her eyes.

Those weren't her eyes.

Oh, god.

She suddenly felt sick, weak, Loz tumbling forward with a gasp as her hand went slack. She collapsed, and the world went dark.

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	10. Ten

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

* * *

* * *

(Ten)

* * *

Tifa didn't lose consciousness. She wished that she could, that she could sink and drown and hide from this and never wake up again. This wasn't a nightmare. This was _hell_.

Loz was right. It hurt. This was Jenova's Reunion - her body being overtaken by alien cells that wanted only to be as close as possible to others of their kind. This was why she responded to him the way she did. This was why she'd...

She tried not to scream again. When she'd screamed, Loz had tried to rise, still gasping, and had reached for her - but at his touch she'd only screamed again. And then Yazoo had cuffed her across the face, which had set him and Loz to shouting at each other, and she was sure that Loz was crying now. And then Kadaj had stomped out and yelled at Loz about the damage to the boat, and...

...And everything was falling apart, just the way she'd hoped.

And it hurt.

She lay on her side, curled in a fetal position with eyes open wide. Her own eyes, now - she could tell, because it was so dark that she could barely see again. She felt numb, hardly aware of the constant pounding of the cold rain that struck her and pooled on the deck beneath her.

The deck vibrated, screeched, creaked as Kadaj and Yazoo cast Restore spells on it until it had re-formed itself properly. Loz sat with his back to the wall, only a few feet away, hugging his knees and hiding his face. "I know you weren't going to kill me," he mumbled, just loud enough for her to hear his catching voice over the sound of the rain. "I don't care what Yazoo says. You would've stopped..."

She wasn't sure if he was right or not. Everything in her mind seemed to be... clashing. At war.

The feel of him struggling under her hand at his throat had been... intoxicating...

Perhaps if she willed it enough, she could simply die.

There was a slight splash; she focused on the sound, and was able to make out a pair of pale, bare feet stopped in front of her. She didn't move her head, but shifted her gaze to look up. She could see Kadaj looking down at her, glowing eyes narrowed tiredly. He stood with his arms folded across his bare chest, his long coat hung over his shoulders like a cape. He looked rather like he was trying to make himself smaller so as to be less likely to be rained on; with the rain this steady, it was a useless effort.

The boy knelt, tilting his head. "You play rough," he said simply. "That's why he likes you. But you frightened Yazoo."

Tifa blinked at him, her mouth opening slightly as she tried to take in that absurd statement - but Kadaj didn't give her time. "Come on," he said, taking her hand. "Come inside."

She obediently got to her feet, stumbling a bit - her limbs really did feel cold and numb and somehow not her own. But his hand in hers was warm...

She turned to see Loz, still huddled against the wall, visible by the yellow light spilling form the steering house's doorway. Yazoo was sitting with him now, running his long-fingered hands over his brother, casting Cure spells and gently massaging and whispering things that she couldn't hear. Tifa knew these motions - had used them on Cloud after some of the bigger battles, and vice versa - and she felt her cheeks grow warm. She knew the expression that Yazoo would give her, should he deign to look at her.

Loz still looked miserable, but he was at least no longer hiding his face. He leaned his head back against the wall, tilting to the side at his brother's touch, staring at nothing. When he noticed her looking, his troubled expression softened considerably.

Tifa looked away quickly, unable to keep from shuddering. This wasn't right. It shouldn't matter, what happened to them. To him. It shouldn't hurt. It wasn't even her, making her feel like this - it was the Reunion.

How long before she ceased to exist, and became one of these creatures, that cared for nothing but each other and Sephiroth and Jenova? Why couldn't Loz have just killed her, instead of sentencing her to this slow loss of existence?

The ferry bucked beneath their feet, passing from wave to angry wave. The sky continued to cry, with no signs of stopping.

There was nothing that she could do. No point to this. She couldn't change anything.

The deck tilted violently, so that Tifa slipped on the wet metal, down to one knee. Kadaj, just crossing the threshold into the steering house, lost his grip on her hand. He looked back at her, hand still extended.

Enough.

Tifa turned, ran the three remaining steps to the railing, and threw herself overboard.

* * *

She remembered hitting the water headfirst, the impact knocking the air out of her. Good. This was it. This was what she had to do. She couldn't back out at the last minute, couldn't accidentally survive by instinct. This was the end.

She remembered the silence beneath the waves, the currents pushing her about like a leaf on wind, the panic of her body tempered by despair. And then she'd passed through the surface currents, drifting down in perfect, cold stillness.

She remembered thinking that there was no point in crying. Tears in an ocean meant nothing.

Her lungs burned, pressure taking what air was left away from her. She righted herself, cold limbs flailing desperately, even though she knew with sad detachment that it was hopeless.

The pain seemed to lessen, the cold water growing slightly warmer, and brighter. The black around her faded, becoming bright white, still silent.

She could smell flowers. She tried to figure out why she could smell flowers when she _knew_ that she was underwater.

And then Tifa heard a voice that she hadn't heard in more than two years.

"Be strong."

The light faded, darkness taking over again.

_Arms around her_

She knew this place. The Mako reactor in Nibelheim.

Tifa looked down at the sword in her hands. It wasn't hers. She didn't use swords, and this one was ridiculously disproportionate in comparison to her. But it was what she had. It was her chance.

She looked up, gaze passing over the long stairs flanked with ominous metal pods, up to the landing at the top of the stairs and the door labeled "JENOVA" and the black-coated figure standing there with his hands on the door.

She raised the sword as best she could and charged, screaming with pure, righteous rage. "SEPHIROTH!"

_Coughing, shouting. "Yazoo!"_

He didn't even flinch. He whirled as she reached him, easily avoiding her misuse of his sword, his hand catching hers over the hilt. He held her aloft, slowly raised his head to stare her in the face with hollow, empty eyes and a strangely soft smile.

Tifa knew that he was going to kill her. She _remembered_. She remembered the sudden pain across her chest, the feel of hitting the stairs halfway down and tumbling -

_Cold. Everything cold. Everything but the arms around her._

Sephiroth let the sword fall, threw her against the closed door, held her there with his body. He bent his head, his lips close to her ear. "I've been waiting for you, Tifa."

She screamed, beating against him, but it didn't seem to matter. His gloved hand reached down, the soft leather smooth against her thigh, then sliding up to move aside that miniskirt that she'd thought was so cute when she was fifteen... Her favorite outfit, which she'd worn because she wanted to look good for _Sephiroth_, and she'd tried for so long to block that memory out and she knew that Cloud only had it worse...

_The choked shouting became more desperate, nearly a scream. "YAZOO!"_

She writhed under the rhythm he forced on her, still trying to shove him away, but no matter how much she thrashed or pulled at his hair, he wouldn't stop. He only smiled, holding her still against the metal door with her feet off the ground, relentlessly pushing into her. He ducked his head, teeth at her throat, and she threw her head back and screamed and sobbed because there had been a time when this had been all she'd wanted...

_"Tifa, wake up, wake up -"_

_"What were you thinking? You can't even swim -"_

_"Kadaj, shut up."_

He strained against her, motions becoming almost frenzied for a few moments before he groaned and went still. Tifa shuddered, her arms numb where he held her and shoulders aching.

He pulled back, straightened, his grip on her relaxing. She slid down, her head falling against his chest, trembling too much to move.

"You wanted this."

She jumped at the sound of his voice, suddenly spurred to action again, but he only took her chin in his hand and tilted her head back. His hair fell around her, an inescapable trap.

"You always wanted this." His smile was imperious, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. "You _belong_."

There was nothing she could do. Nothing. No escape, not even in death; no rescue. Cloud was lost. He'd never come to rescue her again.

Cloud probably suffered worse than this.

_Stunned silence._

_"There's no Revive Materia. Keep breathing for her."_

_Fear. "Yazoo, she's so cold -"_

_"She's still there," Kadaj murmured. "I can... feel her."_

Sephiroth leaned forward, tilting his head and kissing her. Tifa let him, closed her eyes, shivered at his rough movements. There was nothing that she could do. She belonged...

He pulled away, speaking before she opened her eyes. "Breathe."

Tifa realized that she couldn't. She choked, twisted from her back to her side, heaving until saltwater spilled from her mouth, until she could finally gasp and cough. Curling onto her knees, she clutched at her aching sides, moaning and trying to comprehend what was happening. It hurt to breathe; she couldn't stop coughing.

Her eyes flew open when warm hands lay on her upper arms. She expected her limbs to still ache from what Sephiroth had done, but the pain didn't seem to be there, and she couldn't figure out why.

Loz pushed Tifa upright, then drew her into his lap, cradling her against him. He said nothing, only held her tightly, his face buried in the wet hair at her shoulder. It was a long time before she could stop coughing.

"It'll be hours now before I can cast again," Yazoo grumbled, somewhere off to the side. "If she does that again, let her go."

"Enough," Kadaj said softly, laying a hand on Yazoo's arm. "Come on. It's cold out here."

The world reeled; Tifa realized that she was being carried, and suddenly, the relentless pounding of the rain ceased. She was dimly aware of being undressed and laid down on the pallet.

When she finally lost consciousness, she was surrounded by warmth.

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	11. Eleven

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

Further Note: It sticks in my mind, so I figure I should mention: Yes, Tifa got slashed across the chest by Sephiroth back in Nibelheim and nearly died. However, while I've seen others reference her having a scar from it, I always supposed that a.) Masamune is terribly sharp, thereby leaving a very clean cut, and b.) Cure spells usually don't leave scars (I'm making this up XD). So, I always figured that she didn't have a scar (not physically, anyway), hence no mention of it.

Another Note: This chapter wins for the most dialogue. Whether that's good or bad, I don't know, but it sorta needs to be there. I think. (Yeah, this note is kinda pointless... maybe it's an apology...)

* * *

* * *

(Eleven)

* * *

Tifa slowly surfaced from dreamless sleep, gradually becoming aware of her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was the slightly scratchy feel of saltwater dried on her skin, but that wasn't important. It was more important that she was warm; the numbing cold seemed to have left her entirely. She felt completely rested and relaxed, and the only thing that immediately mattered was staying that way.

She was lying on her side, head turned so that she faced upward, and she was held close by muscular arms. Still not quite awake, she smiled, shifting and snuggling closer. Cloud could be so sweet. She reached out, running her hand down his side to his waist...

Waitaminute.

The feel of a hand already _at_ his waist brought everything crashing down again. The fingers flexed, quickly interlaced with her own, holding her hand there. It didn't help that she realized that there was another presence at _her_ back as well.

Her eyes snapped open, her body going rigid for a moment. There was light - dim grey light that signaled, perhaps, the earliest phase of dawn through an overcast sky. Loz had her pulled close against him, likewise lying on his side. Over his shoulder, gleaming sea-green cat eyes regarded her. Yazoo was at his brother's back, and had raised his head and taken her hand when she'd brushed his.

As she watched, Yazoo's eyes narrowed - was he smiling? - and he nuzzled at the back of his brother's neck. He released her hand and stroked Loz's side, moving up against his body a few times.

Loz smiled, eyes opening slightly as he turned his head. "Yazoo..."

Tifa blushed, simultaneously realizing that none of them seemed to have any clothing - not surprising, given how soaked they'd all been - as well as exactly how interested Loz was in what his brother was doing.

Though his back was to hers, Kadaj somehow seemed to know what was happening as well. "Now you're just being mean, Yazoo," the boy said in an amused tone, before pulling away and rising, the air cold in his wake. "Come on."

Yazoo sat up, looking at Kadaj with what might've been a slight pout. The small noise he made certainly sounded disappointed.

"Yeah," Loz said as he twisted, his arm sliding down Tifa's side a little more, and leaned back to look up at his brother. He smirked. "Meanie."

Yazoo tilted his head, looking at Loz, then did something completely unexpected - he broke into a wide, genuine smile. Tifa blinked; there was a beautiful ease and warmth to him just then that she hadn't thought him capable of.

His eyes flicked up, catching Tifa's, and the smile changed, becoming... almost malicious, she thought, reluctant to leave it at mischievous. And then he was up, following Kadaj, and Loz had only her to become the subject his attention again.

He turned back to her and tightened his arms around her again, pulling her even closer, her head nestling under his chin. For a moment, she thought that he'd be satisfied to simply hold her - but then he pushed himself against her, making a low, pleased sound.

Tifa stiffened again, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. Part of her wanted to cry out and try to use her hands, now trapped between them, to push him away or hurt him or...

It didn't matter. It was pointless. She _belonged_. She willed her body to relax, allowing him to do as he would with her.

He stilled, pulling away enough to turn her onto her back. For a moment, his half-lidded eyes found hers, and his smile faded slightly, as though...

As though he knew that she didn't want this.

But that shadow left him quickly, and it didn't stop him. He brought himself over her and kissed her, but seemed disappointed when he found no resistance at all. She turned her face away, staring at the rest of the room - empty now that the others had left. He moved down to kiss her jaw, her neck, her shoulder, and then lower... Lower still...

She gave a startled intake of breath when he reached his destination, but quickly calmed herself. Just when she'd thought that she'd known all to expect of him...

Not that it mattered. None of it mattered. This was deserved torture at worst, or means to an end, at best. And that was all.

She caught herself running her hand through his hair. It was like wolf fur, thick and warm and somehow comforting, and the feel of it between her fingers was _right_.

She closed her eyes, lost, unable to stop the small sounds that escaped her.

When he was finished with her, and with himself, he lay down next to her again, stroking her hair as his breathing eased. She tried to keep from looking at him, and didn't expect it when he spoke. Nor did she expect the slight catch to his voice.

"You weren't breathing when Yazoo got us out of the water last night," he said quietly. "It... it took forever to get you to breathe again. I thought you were gone." He slipped one arm under her, pulling her as close as he could again. "Why did you try to die?"

Tifa turned her head and found herself looking into his eyes - the slitted pupils were dilated, the glow to the cool green irises still visible in the low light. He seemed to be genuinely troubled.

She stared. How could he act like he didn't understand...

Her confusion must have been visible. "I mean," he went on, "We had fun, yesterday. The fighting was good and it was great when you -"

"Why do you care?" She snapped, cutting him off, beginning to raise her voice in spite of herself. That lump that wasn't supposed to be in her throat any more was back again. "How can you act like you care? _You did this!_ You kidnapped me and raped me and infected me with this _disease_ -"

"But -"

"And I can't even kill myself to get away from you because then I have Sephiroth waiting for me -" She bowed her head, closing her eyes against the memory without pausing in her tirade.

He blinked, trying to keep up. "...Sephiroth?"

"And I'm turning into something else, something that shouldn't be, and I don't want to, and - oh god, I just want to go home-"

He moved his hands to either side of her head. "Tifa -"

"Don't! Don't even start!" She shoved at him, realizing that she was sobbing. She hadn't noticed when she'd begun to cry. "_You didn't even know my name!_"

"_Stop_."

She silenced at the tone of his voice. She hadn't heard him sound so... dark... before. He seemed frustrated, angry... hurt...

It frightened her. The idea of what he might do to her in this state frightened her. It made her think that he was capable of things she hadn't yet guessed.

Slowly she raised her eyes to his, as his hands relaxed and moved away from her face. He was crying, too, though he seemed to be trying to keep quiet.

She bowed her head again, bewildered. For a few minutes, he only held her, both of them silent.

She murmured, "Why are you holding me?"

He took a shaky breath, tilting his head to rest against hers. "Isn't that all anyone wants, when they cry?"

She couldn't argue with that. They were silent for a little longer.

"Why have you done this to me?" Tifa finally asked, her voice barely a whisper. "You... you said before that when you find... when the Reunion comes... you'll end..."

"When we find Mother," he told her in far too even a tone, "We'll be one again, instead of just pieces. The rest is up to her. The world will end, if she so wishes. My brothers and I... are means to whatever end she wants. But we'll be _remembered_. I didn't want you to be forgotten... We might even exist again, when she reaches the Promised Land..."

It was now or never, she realized. She pushed back a little so as to look him in the face again. "Loz, you don't - you don't have to," she began. It was so hard to look him in the eye and say it. "You could put a stop to this. You said that you liked... being. The Reunion won't happen without you, will it? You could... walk away..." She swallowed. "You could... be with me."

"I'm that good, huh?" He smiled, but his eyes were still sad. "Sorry to disappoint you. This is all the time we get."

Tifa frowned at the finality of his tone, much less the inherent mockery. "But -"

Loz leaned in and kissed her forehead. "It doesn't work that way," he sighed as he rolled onto his back. "Mother needs us. We exist for her." He smoothed his hair back, closing his eyes. "Even if it _does_ hurt."

She bit her lip, reaching across his chest as though trying to hold him down. "She's not your mother," she tried, raising her head a little so as to see his face. "You had a human mother and father. All three of you did. You were just injected with Jenova cells, and -"

Loz suddenly laughed outright; she yanked her hand back in surprise. "You think we're clones?" He covered his face with his arm, still laughing. "We're not _clones_, Tifa." He held both arms out in front of him so that she could see. "See? No numbers." He stretched his arms above his head, staring at the ceiling. "Kadaj calls us Remnants. We're all that's left of Sephiroth. Parts of his Will made real. All that survived when you killed... when he died... what?"

Tifa huddled against his side, trying not to listen, her hands over her ears. She was shaking. It didn't matter how well it fit, how well everything fell into place; it couldn't be true. If Sephiroth were that powerful, there'd be no defeating him, ever, so it couldn't be true. It wasn't true. They were clones. They were just confused, that was all. Someone had lied to them. That had to be how it was.

Because Sephiroth had never been this warm, had he? So it couldn't be true...

Why was she so sure that Sephiroth was laughing at her now?

"Please... just stop," she managed to choke out. "I don't want to know."

* * *

He didn't leave her side again until they reached land an hour later. They simply abandoned the ferry on the beach, quickly reaching the road and heading south, toward Midgar.

Tifa did nothing, ate nothing, said nothing; even seeing Denzel in the truck again barely caused a reaction. For a while, she rode behind Loz on his motorcycle again, holding him tightly as the road beneath them gradually became more familiar. Rocky coast gave way to wind-scoured bluffs as they turned a little inland, soon passing a branching road that led to Kalm.

It was in the third hour of the drive that he felt her slipping away.

Loz braked hard, leaning and stomping into the asphalt to spin the bike so that he could catch her before she hit the ground. "Tifa!"

He pulled her up and around to cradle her in front of him; she was completely limp. He thought at first that her hair was still damp from the shower they'd taken on the ship, but that didn't make sense - that had been hours ago. It was damp with sweat. Her eyes were open slightly, but unfocused.

He pulled one glove off with his teeth, laying his hand against her forehead. Fever. High fever. He reached down to her midsection, frowning.

The truck pulled to a halt up ahead. Kadaj, on the other motorcycle, whirled and sped back toward him, quickly pulling alongside and stopping.

Loz wordlessly held his hand out to his brother, eyes pleading. Liquid dark dripped from his fingers where he'd touched her.

Kadaj's face hardened. "I told you she wouldn't last," he said quietly, his voice flat. "There's nothing to be done, now..."

Loz glanced at Tifa, then quickly looked away, swallowing hard. Kadaj rolled his eyes. "Look, don't start that again," he snapped, folding his arms. "We don't have the time."

"M'sorry," Loz mumbled, though who exactly he was addressing was unclear, given that he was still looking away.

Kadaj glanced down with an exasperated sigh, focusing momentarily on Tifa's boots dangling over his brother's leg. If Loz would've just let her drink in the first place, this wouldn't be an issue. But he wouldn't have had as much fun with her then...

"Put her in the truck," Kadaj instructed with a resigned air. "I'll drive and have her boy take care of her. It's time we switched drivers anyway."

Loz turned back to his brother quickly, with a small, thankful smile. Yes, he'd been crying again, Kadaj confirmed. He looked like he'd expected to be told to dump Tifa on the side of the road and leave her there.

Not that bad an idea, but too late now. It didn't much matter. She wasn't going to be a distraction for Loz for too much longer, by the looks of it. "Well? Get a move on," the boy prompted, pushing at his older brother's shoulder. "Mother needs us."

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	12. Twelve

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

Longer chapter... In the home stretch now, so to speak...

* * *

* * *

(Twelve)

* * *

Drifting, drifting...

Flowers. Flowers, as far as the eye could see. Tifa breathed deep, wanting to keep the delicate scent as long as she could. She was sure that it wouldn't last.

She sat among the flowers with the side of her face resting on her knees, arms draped loosely around her legs. She stared at the far horizon, where the myriad colors of the flowers blended with the surrounding white to form a gray line. Everything was gray, if you stood far enough away, or stared long enough. Everything would fade away into gray nothing.

"No giving up now," Aeris gently chided, sitting at her back.

Tifa gave a miserable sigh, hiding her face. "I'm sorry."

"It's not too late." With the softest touch, arms encircled Tifa's waist, and she felt the pressure of her friend resting against her back, chin on her shoulder. "There's still time. Besides, he needs you."

Tifa took a breath, raising her head. "What do you -"

Everything changed. Tifa gave a startled cry, eyes flying open, as she realized that there were hands at her face.

Denzel's hands. She was slouched in the passenger side of the truck, and Denzel was kneeling on the seat, a wet cloth in his hands. He'd been holding it to her forehead.

Kadaj was driving, and spared a glance in her direction. "Hnh," he shrugged. "Thought you weren't coming back."

Tifa blinked, then stared at him wide-eyed. She remembered riding with Loz, feeling warm, becoming aware of a growing ache in her midsection...

The ache was still there - but not as bad as it had been the last she remembered. She lay her hand on her stomach, felt the slickness under her fingers, and didn't bother to look. Her shoulders slumped.

Denzel hovered over her, bringing the cloth to her face again, but she pushed him away. "Fever's broken," she murmured with a tired sigh.

He sat back, and she realized that though he was silent, he was looking up into her face with his own, round-pupiled eyes. His brow was furrowed, but eyes wide - he was frightened.

"It'll be okay, Denzel," she automatically whispered, trying to relax and giving him a weak smile.

Kadaj glanced at her again. "That's enough, boy," he muttered.

Denzel's features relaxed, eyes shifting in color for a moment as he settled back to sit properly and face forward.

Tifa frowned with helpless distress. "Kadaj... Why are you doing this? What are you going to do to these kids? They never did anything to you..."

He tilted his head slightly and smiled in a way that was neither warm nor pleasant. "We need their help to find Mother," he told her. "Oh, don't worry. We're on our way back to Midgar. And then..." He chuckled, amused at something that Tifa could only guess at. "And then we'll... we'll let them go..."

His laughter reminded her of... another's. And she didn't want to think about it.

She stared at the road unfolding ahead of the truck for a few minutes, trying to put that disturbing laughter from her mind. She squinted against the glare of full daylight... and suddenly realized that something was missing. She looked in the rear-view mirror, then over her shoulder through the back window of the cab as well. There were only the still, mindless children to see there.

The truck was alone on the road. "Wh..." She wondered at herself for even asking, but the idea of being alone with Kadaj suddenly seemed even less attractive than she'd imagined. "Where are..."

"They went off-road a while ago," Kadaj shrugged, answering the half-formed question. "They'll catch up."

She settled as much as she could, leaning her head against the doorframe. She reached out and took Denzel's hand in hers. He was unresponsive now, but she hoped that he could feel it anyway.

Her mind wandered as the miles melted away. What Loz had told her made sense, to an extent. They were body, mind, and soul - the soul least stable, but directing the other two. The mind rational and cold, and distant from all but his brothers. The body living in the Now, less complicated, inseparable from the others... but ruled by physicality...

_I'm not thinking about this._ She closed her eyes. Thinking about it meant accepting it. If these three weren't clones, but were actual physical manifestations of Sephiroth's Will, cast out by the Lifestream... how could he ever be defeated? He'd just keep coming back...

...Except that Kadaj and Yazoo and Loz were very different from Sephiroth in one regard: whereas Sephiroth was alone, they had each other.

It was too much to think that this three-fold incarnation might be some kind of redemption for Sephiroth. But perhaps that was why the Lifestream had set them free... perhaps in several more iterations, after several more deaths, he - they - could begin to understand...

If they had only each other to obsess over, instead of Jenova's remains and Reunion...

It was better to believe that, than to believe that Sephiroth was simply strong enough to _leave_ the Lifestream if he wanted, even if only in pieces.

The sound of another engine coming around the truck distracted her. Tifa couldn't bring herself to sit up any further - trying only caused a stab of pain from the Geostigma - but she turned her head, and saw Loz pull up alongside. He saw her, gave her a broad and openly relieved smile, and dropped back to ride behind the truck again. On the truck's far side, Yazoo pulled around to take up point in front.

"It's about time," Kadaj muttered, eyes narrow. "We're nearly there."

* * *

They pulled to a stop on a barren bluff well away from the city, on its northern side. The wind here was strong; the sky was going overcast again, with clouds sweeping in from the ocean.

Huddled in the corner of the truck, Tifa found that she couldn't even lift her hand to brush her hair back from her face. She felt so tired that she could only rest where she was, with her left hand wrapped around Denzel's.

Kadaj got out of the truck and slammed the door, and walked around in front of it to stand between his brothers on their motorcycles. He spoke to them, but between wind and distance, Tifa couldn't hear what was said.

Loz turned to look back at her, then said something to Kadaj, his attitude submissive again. He was asking something.

Yazoo glanced back at her as well, most of his face hidden by his hair streaming in the wind. He made eye contact with her, but she couldn't see his expression. His eyes didn't seem to carry quite the hatred they had before. Perhaps something closer to acceptance... but there was no warmth for her there.

Finally, Kadaj nodded to Loz, who swiftly dismounted and walked back toward the truck, coming around to the passenger side.

"Hey," he addressed her softly, almost hesitantly resting one hand over the open window. "Can you walk?"

Tifa looked away from him without answering. Denzel sat statue-still next to her, dull eyes forward. She gave his cold hand a gentle squeeze, but there was still no response.

"Tifa?"

She didn't really mean to ignore him - it simply seemed to be too much effort to answer. But it didn't seem worth annoying him, either. The frightening tone of voice that he used when she'd frustrated him... haunted her. She didn't want to hear him like that again.

"I don't know," she whispered, staring at Denzel's auburn hair ruffling in the wind.

He was silent for a moment. From the corner of her eye, Tifa watched Kadaj and Yazoo. Yazoo had twisted on the seat of his motorcycle to watch, and Kadaj had his arms folded, looking away. There was something impatient to the boy's bearing...

Loz finally seemed to reach a decision. "I'll carry you," he said, immediately unlatching the door.

Tifa turned to him in surprise, though even that reaction seemed to be slowed. "What?"

"I'll carry you," he repeated, leaning inside. "Come on. Kadaj said that I could take you home. You'll have to tell me how to get there."

She blinked as he reached around her, but lifted her free arm enough to lay it across his shoulders as he picked her up. "Wait," she managed. "Denzel -"

"No," Loz responded, pulling her away. "Just you."

Tifa reluctantly released the boy's hand, which fell limp onto the seat, fingers curled as though he still held her. Denzel never even blinked. She simply didn't have the strength to try to help him, much less herself...

It occurred to her that she should say good-bye to him, but Loz had her out of the truck too quickly. She decided against speaking, using her energy to wrap her other arm around Loz as well.

She wondered if this was what it was like for Denzel, on those days that his fever was worst, when he couldn't get out of bed at all even after the fever broke.

She wondered if - when - Cloud felt this way, and thought of how terrible a fate it was for him to face this strange physical apathy alone. If he'd just said something... If he'd still even cared enough to let her care for him...

Home. Loz was going to take her home. Let her go.

Well, of course he was. She was dying. There wasn't much else he could do to her. He'd even known it would happen, that she'd be hit so hard and fast by Geostigma like this... He'd known that he was killing her.

She wondered how many other women he'd killed this way. Just played with for a day or two until they died of what he gave them.

With her head nestled against his neck, she raised her eyes. Yazoo was still watching with cold eyes, head tilted to one side, lips set in a thin line.

Probably none. This fate was for her alone, if Yazoo's reaction to her was any indication.

"I don't think I can ride with you," she said belatedly, wondering at how weak her voice sounded. "I don't think I can hang on."

"It's okay. I'll hold you."

He reached the motorcycle and swung one leg over, cradling her in his lap as he started the bike with one hand. Next to them, Yazoo only watched unblinking and still. His hands were slack on the handlebars, but the wind whipped his hair toward them, as though it were reaching out.

Kadaj stepped past them to the edge of the bluff, his back to them, speaking without turning. "Be quick, Loz."

"Hn." He nodded, and they were off, down the steep slope toward Edge, the remaining life on the outskirts of a dead city.

Kadaj and Yazoo were silent for a long moment, watching. Then Yazoo spoke. "I don't want him to go."

Kadaj's voice was, if anything, more strained than Yazoo's. "It's his decision."

"All she does is make him hurt," Yazoo whispered darkly. "She's taking him away from us. I'm... afraid..." He swallowed, staring at the motorcycle now crawling across the plain below. "I'm afraid that he won't come back."

"We have to trust him," Kadaj said gently, moving closer and touching his brother's arm. "Who can we trust, if not each other?"

Yazoo hung his head and leaned into the touch. "Still hurts."

"I know."

"Mother will forgive him, won't she?"

Kadaj turned his head, taking in his brother's expression, eyes large and concerned. Afraid, when nothing else could frighten him. He slipped his arm around Yazoo's back, offering comfort. "Mother accepts her. That's why it's all right." He glanced back to the far-off motorcycle. "I wonder... if she might even _become_ Mother. Perhaps instead of... becoming one, we'll... all fight together..."

Yazoo raised his head - he'd never heard his brother conjecture so before. "Without... Sephiroth?"

His younger brother shrugged, looking away. "It doesn't matter. It's up to her."

He suddenly turned back and smiled, the wind blowing his hair away from his face, revealing the excited gleam in his eyes. "Mother is close. Let's go. I'll get your bike from where we hid it, so we'll be ready..."

Yazoo nodded and dismounted, allowing Kadaj to have the motorcycle again. His own had been hidden in Midgar the entire time. "I'll wait in the square for Loz," he acknowledged, walking back toward the truck.

His jaw tightened when his back was turned to Kadaj. _No matter how long I have to wait..._

* * *

"Here."

Loz pulled up in front of 7th Heaven, shutting down the bike. The street seemed to be mostly deserted, though there was no apparent reason - this time of day, it was usually bustling. It occurred to her that it was probably because the bar wasn't open. The few people that were in the street gave them a wide berth, apparently intent on minding their own business.

Tifa rested her forehead against his neck, comfortable in his warmth. She felt a bit better - she could tell that she was regaining her strength. Perhaps this particular attack from the Geostigma wouldn't be the last after all. But she wasn't going to tell him that...

He carried her inside easily - the front door had been left unlocked, but then, it was well known in the area what happened to intruders, given who lived there. Even if they weren't there, some of the neighbors generally kept an eye on the place.

Daylight streamed into the still, empty room within. There was no sound of children, no sound of Cloud in the back working on his bike... Nobody was there at all.

"Just set me down," Tifa whispered. She hung on to him as tightly as she could so as to not slip when he bent to leave her at one of the booths next to the front door. A last moment of resting against him, breathing heat and leather, and then he'd released her, and her arms slipped away from him.

She lay her arms on the table and bent forward, resting her head there. Her eyes drifted shut.

"You'll know, when the Reunion comes," he told her, tilting his head and stroking her hair. "You'll feel it. You'll know where to go." He took a deeper breath, straightening, his hand falling away from her. "I'll wait for you, if I can."

He moved away, toward the door, but stopped with his hand on the handle and looked to her again. "I'm... I'm sorry. I wish there was time..." He paused, as though he wasn't sure how to put into words what he wanted to say.

"I wish I could've done this right, so we could've been together."

For a long moment both of them were still and silent. Then he turned away, closing the door behind him rather than letting it slam as Cloud always seemed to. She heard the motorcycle start again and quickly move away, the sound disappearing in a matter of seconds.

Tifa hid her face in her arms, hiding from the light. She tried to think of herself as free, but the only word that came to mind was _alone_.

She should be relieved, she thought. But she didn't feel it. She felt like crying might be an option, too, but that wasn't happening, either. What was wrong with her?

She could think of a few things.

It had only been the night before last, she reminded herself. It had only been a day and a half ago that he'd taken what he wanted from her. She hadn't even known him long enough to have any real idea of who he was.

"But you still want him," a chilling voice announced from one of the tables nearby.

Tifa stiffened, then slowly raised her head, eyes wide. Sephiroth sat at a table, legs propped up on an extra chair. He seemed to be completely at ease, smirking, watching her.

"No," she whispered.

"Yes," Sephiroth smiled, full of malice. "He wants you, you want him back. What's your problem?"

Tifa swallowed, sitting back, unwilling to take her eyes from the monster that had now invaded her home. "More to it than that," she muttered, wondering why she was having this conversation.

"Why?" Sephiroth swung his legs down, leaning forward like a predator scenting blood. "What more do you need? You know it's true." He was openly grinning now, a cruel and mocking undertone to his voice.

"You aren't even here," Tifa reminded herself. "You're not real. You're a hallucination. You're just - you're just these damn Jenova cells I'm stuck with now, trying to get me to - to go back to them."

The grin slipped away. He stood, scowling now, and kicked the chair that he'd been resting his feet on. It clattered into another table and chairs across the room. "Tell me I'm not real again," he taunted, his voice cold.

Tifa cringed as he approached her, knowing full well that, hallucination or not, he was perfectly capable of hurting her. Her body was killing itself as it tried - and failed - to get rid of the alien cells that had invaded her; she was in no position to resist him...

He suddenly had her arm, hauling her to her feet, glowering at her for a moment. His eyes were so much more frightening than _any_ of the brothers'...

And then he shoved her onto her back on the table. Tifa could only stumble and fall back as he moved her.

Sephiroth moved to stand between her limply dangling legs, pinning her arms down at the wrists, and leaned over her. He tilted his head to one side, his hair falling over his shoulder. "Why are you fighting?" he asked, as though he really didn't understand. It echoed of the way Loz might ask such a thing.

Tifa turned her head aside; it really didn't matter what he did to her. She focused on the way the light coming through the window gleamed on his silver hair. Were all hallucinations this detailed?

His voice turned cold. "Answer me, Tifa." He pushed against her - she was certain that he was merely trying to provoke her. Her lips tightened, teeth clenched.

"You were always so helpful," he murmured, leaning closer to her, his tone warm and mocking again. "Guiding me to Mother... returning my sword to me - foolish to try to attack me with it... sealing Cloud in those half-true memories of his, helping him realize that he was mine and mine alone... You truly do belong..."

Tifa closed her eyes. "Shut up."

Even without looking, she could tell that his smile widened. Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut? He pushed against her again, leaning close enough to lick along her jaw. She gritted her teeth.

"Why are you here, instead of where you belong?" He whispered in her ear.

She took as deep a breath as she could with him pressing down on her. "Go away."

"You should be with him."

"Go away."

"He loves you."

She squeezed her eyes shut more tightly, scowling and curling her hands into fists. "Doesn't know how any better than you do."

Sephiroth laughed softly. "Open your eyes." He let go of one arm, bringing his gloved hand up to lay across her exposed midriff. The Geostigma didn't hurt where he touched it - it burned as though she were being cut with a blade of ice.

Tifa screamed and kicked, contacting nothing, arching her back and pushing against him in desperation. Her free hand found his throat and clamped down, but she didn't have the strength to try to strangle him.

She remembered catching Loz by the throat, shoving him against the wall...

She remembered the way he'd looked at her that morning, perfectly aware that she didn't want him to touch her and not letting that knowledge even slow him down. And then he'd had the audacity to try to make her _enjoy_ it.

_"I wish I could've done this right, so we could've been together."_

He'd known. He'd known exactly what he was doing to her the entire time, and he'd played her, pushed her to breaking, controlled her...

"You know how to find him," Sephiroth murmured, his voice a purr against her hand at his throat.

She shoved upward, pushing him back, opening her eyes and glaring. With flexibility that he didn't seem to expect, she brought her legs up, catching her boots against his shoulders and kicking as hard as she could.

Sephiroth flew back from the blow, and she heard him fall among the tables and chairs with a loud clatter as she flipped upright. But when she looked...

There was nothing there. The room was empty and undisturbed, not a bit of furniture displaced.

"Told you. Hallucination," she muttered, blue-green and slitted eyes narrowing against the blazing light.

She was struck with a sudden loathing for this pathetic place, filled with the scent of stale spilled alcohol and dust and garbage. It was constructed from pieces gleaned from the dying city itself, and as such, was falling apart even as it had been built. She hated it. It was better to hate. Hate gave power, made things happen.

This place was decay itself. It was no wonder that she'd broken, when this was all she had to cling to. It housed nothing but miserable people visiting to find oblivion in drink, and false families there to hurt each other.

Hurt. Hurt was good. She was going to hurt _him_.

She could feel him. All three of them, nearer to each other now. It wouldn't be difficult to find them.

She licked her lips, then moved forward, sure of her purpose. A table in the way was flipped aside, crashing into and breaking a few of the rickety chairs.

There. The back room, the office. In the closet behind the desk, beneath a box of receipts - she flung the box aside, contents spilling, and pulled out the metal chest beneath.

She opened and dug through the chest until she found what she wanted - her Premium Heart. She left the chest where it was, pulling on the gauntlets as she stood.

She caught sight of her reflection in the glass of a framed photograph on the desk. It would take getting used to, this face with these eyes. Not that it mattered.

If it was what she needed in order to succeed in her task, so be it.

She turned and made her way out, nearly knocking the front door from its hinges as she flung it open.

Nothing would stand between her and Loz, and anyone or anything that tried would suffer the same fate that she had in store for him.

A few minutes after Tifa disappeared, moving toward the square, another motorcycle pulled up in front of 7th Heaven. And Cloud and Marlene could only wonder what had happened inside.

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	13. Thirteen

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

...Hard chapter to write, not because of anything in particular about the story part, but because this AU has finally caught up with the movie, and figuring out the differences and how to go about writing what already exists wasn't easy. I think I love Denzel now, though.

...And, just realized that I got through this entire story with very little swearing, somehow. That changes here; sorry if that bothers anyone. :-P

* * *

* * *

(Thirteen)

* * *

"Denzel!"

The boy stared at the ground with slitted eyes more green than his own. A lot had happened around him, and was still happening, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He knew he should care, that he should be afraid, that he should run, but... even when the monument had exploded behind him, he'd only stood, still as a statue, as debris flew around him. Some might even have hit him, but he wasn't sure. He didn't hurt as far as he could tell.

"Denzel, wake up!"

Hands lifted his head, a face staring into his own. Someone was kneeling in front of him.

Cloud.

Some barrier in his mind snapped apart; his eyes went wide. Even as the hyper-real colors in his vision died away, he couldn't look away from Cloud. He caught hold of the warrior's arms, suddenly gasping for air.

"Cloud -"

Strife's face relaxed a bit as he breathed a sigh of relief. This meant that the kid would recover, right? "Denzel, I need you to get out of here. I took Marlene home -"

The boy blinked rapidly, glancing about the square. "Was Tifa there?"

Cloud's brow furrowed again, and he lowered his eyes, hands falling to the boy's shoulders. "Denzel, I... I think Tifa's gone..."

Denzel stiffened, swatting the man's hands away from him. "Was she there or not?"

It was Cloud's turn to blink in confusion. "I... No... I couldn't find her..."

The boy glared at him. "She was with us, and she got sick. Loz said that he was taking her home."

Judging by his expression, Denzel decided that Cloud hadn't understood a word he'd said. Finally the man managed, "They... didn't kill her?"

Denzel's lips curled back in frustrated disgust. Cloud was ten kinds of awesome, but sometimes, he was just _clueless_. How Cloud could have friggin' _saved the world_ and still have no idea of what someone with enough cruelty and power could _do_ to someone besides killing them was just _beyond_ him.

"No, they didn't kill her," he said quietly. He wanted to sound impatient, but somehow, his voice sounded only frightened and exhausted to his ears. And he hated it. This... this being _weak_ had to _stop_.

Cloud seemed to get a hint of what had happened in time to stop himself from asking. His mouth opened slightly, horror in his eyes, everything _else_ they could have done finally coming to mind. He bowed his head.

There was silence. Or, rather, neither Cloud nor Denzel spoke for a moment; Denzel had time to notice the chaos around him. The monument behind him was leveled, those people left in the square were screaming and running, there were demonic black Summons leaping about like cats loosed in an aviary, and someone - he had a good guess as to who - had summoned some variety of Bahamut, which was currently circling and roaring above, being harassed by some fighters - only a few of whom he recognized.

Cloud raised his head, his expression stone. "Denzel, I need you to -"

"I'm going home," Denzel snapped, shaking himself free. He turned and almost ran a few steps before pausing to glance over his shoulder. "We'll... see you there, right? When it's over?"

Cloud swallowed, teeth clenched. It felt like the world had dropped away again, and he _hated_ that feeling. He knew it too well.

"When it's over," he managed, standing and moving toward his motorcycle. First things first: get rid of that Summon before it did any more damage...

She was there.

Cloud stood at his motorcycle, staring. He'd been just about to mount up and head for the construction site - where the others had the Bahamut at bay - and when he looked up, Tifa was standing there. She was about twenty feet away, downcast eyes hidden by her hair, statue-still - as though she'd been waiting for him to see her.

She approached when he looked up, but still kept her eyes hidden. The people running past seemed to part for her like water around stone.

Cloud thought he might cry; his words were certainly choked enough. "I thought you were gone," he whispered, reaching out. It was one thing to be told by Denzel, and another to see her here, walking, alive.

And then he saw the black that ran down one arm to drip from her fingers, and noticed the dark veins scrawled over her body and the gray cast to her skin. Denzel had said that she was sick, but this -

She lifted her eyes to his.

Fuck.

He thought he might be able to deal with it if she wasn't smiling.

"Missed you, Cloud," Tifa sighed, tilting her head a little. "I was starting to think I wouldn't, but I did..." She straightened, casting her cat-eyed gaze over the square, searching for something. "You feel different than they do," she murmured. "But I can feel you too, isn't that odd?" She locked her eyes on his again. "You shine like sunlight..."

She stood directly opposite him, on just the other side of the motorcycle, and Cloud suddenly felt that she was entirely too close. He wondered if there was anything left of the woman he'd known, and tried to keep his hand from moving to his sword. Not this, anything but this; how could he have fucked up this badly again?

Behind her, the Bahamut screamed, a slash of red dancing about its face. Vincent. The others couldn't banish the thing on their own...

"There isn't much time," Tifa told him, her smile fading a little. "I don't have much time. Help me."

She was still there. He was sure of it. "What can I do?"

The smile came back. That had been the right answer. "I need a Haste Materia."

She _was_ there. She intended to fight. "Don't have one." He shook his head, glancing down at his bike for the sake of looking at something other than this... perversion... of his best friend. He'd tried, wanted to drift away rather than burden them when he'd realized that he had Geostigma. If he wasn't there anymore, it wouldn't be so bad for them when he couldn't come back, right? But he'd only succeeded in distancing himself from the only comfort he had left... And now...

That smile with those eyes... it was too much...

He heard her snort - in disgust, perhaps - and she shifted as though to leave.

Wait. "Yuffie. Yuffie will have, I'm sure," he said quickly, raising his head again and swinging a leg over his motorcycle. "Come on."

She paused for only a moment before sliding onto the bike behind him. He shivered as her arms easily encircled his waist with unexpected familiarity - but he refused to look. If he didn't see her, she could still be all right, no matter how cold she was...

Tifa rested her head against the scabbard on Cloud's back as he quickly started up his bike - Fenrir, he'd named it, she remembered. She decided that it had a lighter voice than Loz's motorcycle - a bit lighter all around, but at least as powerful.

She watched the fleeing people they passed, disinterested but patient. Cloud would not fail to help her now, out of his own guilt at her condition. He felt that it was his fault. She could read him easily now - he was conflicted, terrified by her as she was now, desperate to make this horror stop.

_He needs you._

The memory of the cloying scent of flowers filled her mind. She grimaced and shook her head, trying to clear it.

Guilt and desperation alone was not enough. It would just get him killed - those emotions were a hindrance that the Remnants lacked.

He would need power. Confidence. If she could not give it to him, he would face the Remnants and die, mourning that his best hadn't been enough when his best hadn't been achieved.

He was such a fool.

_You'll bring him to me, won't you, Tifa?_

Sephiroth. She tightened her arms around Cloud's waist, feeling him nervously stiffen a little. _He is not yours. He is mine._

_I doubt that,_ the voice in her mind murmured, full of amusement. _But you want him to survive. You'll see to it that he reaches the Reunion._

Tifa closed her eyes, scowling in silent fury. _Bastard._

_Good girl._

The motorcycle was suddenly screeching to a halt at the base of the scaffolded structure. Cloud was looking up, Fenrir's sword casings suddenly extending with a metallic _thunk_. He suddenly jerked in her arms. "Barret!"

Part of the structure was falling toward their friend, and the man hadn't even seen it yet.

Tifa let go of Cloud, watching as he ran for the scaffold, casting Float over himself so as to climb in a quick series of leaps. She stared until he was far enough away that she could no longer see the black marks she'd left soaked into his sweater.

And then she followed as quickly as she could...

It was a surprisingly swift battle - Cloud was already near breaking, and didn't hesitate to take it out on the Summon. At the last, the others helped him - providing bases to leap from before his Float spell wore off - and when it was Tifa's turn, she said nothing, only challenged him with her changed eyes.

And he met her gaze and did not flinch away.

Good.

She didn't even wait to see him finish or for the beast to fall out of the sky. The moment she landed next to Yuffie, she was reaching. "Yuffie! Materia! Haste!"

Yuffie turned to make one of her silly remarks, but her face went slack when she got a clear view of Tifa.

"_Now!_" Tifa snarled. She'd had enough of wasting time. She needed to get to _them_, find Loz before -

Vincent was there, one arm over Yuffie's shoulders, taking the Materia from her and extending it toward Tifa in his metal hand. His gaze held the same fatalistic determination that she'd seen in Cloud's.

Tifa smiled at them - Yuffie flinched - as she junctioned the Materia to her Premium Heart. Then she tilted her head, stretching out her senses -

She didn't have to. The explosion in one of the buildings several blocks away was enough to get everyone's attention.

Throwing herself backward, Tifa flipped from the girder she'd been standing on, landing in the open space below. Cloud was already there, starting up his bike again.

She leapt onto the motorcycle as well, her hands on his shoulders this time. "Go!"

He didn't hesitate for more than a fraction of a second before peeling out of the site, the banished Bahamut disintegrating into blue flame behind them.

Cloud was focused on the road in front of him, deviating from his path only slightly so as to avoid hitting anyone, his shoulders under her hands tense. He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Tifa... I want to tell you -"

She leaned into him, moving her arms around his waist again. "Don't even think about saying goodbye," she shouted to him over Fenrir's roar. "You will end this. I won't forgive you if you fail."

He glanced at her again, then turned back to the road, and did not waver. His hands tightened around the bike's handles. She was clearly dying, hours to live at best, with some of the worst Geostigma he'd ever seen - and she wouldn't stop fighting.

Good enough.

"There!" Tifa suddenly cried, pointing.

Cloud looked up from the road, and saw - bodies falling to the street from the building that they were heading for -

He realized that Tifa was rigid against him, clinging tightly, breathing fast. "Kadaj -"

One of the bodies stopped in the air - nets. White. Rufus. He'd been caught in rescue nets.

Kadaj caught something in the air, curled around it, flipped - landed -

His brothers were there, with those two Turks, and everything was still for a moment -

Everything fell into place. Vincent had said that the Shinra had gotten a hold of Jenova's head, and Rufus had tried to hire him as a bodyguard, and Kadaj and his brothers were -

Ohshit.

Tifa had her head at his shoulder, straining forward, breath hissing in her teeth loud enough for him to hear and hands clamped down on his shoulders again. He suddenly knew what was keeping her going - she wanted revenge.

"_Faster!_"

Cloud's eyes narrowed as he gunned the engine. As if she'd had to tell him.

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	14. Fourteen

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

I'm sorry.

* * *

* * *

(Fourteen)

* * *

Kadaj and his brothers were off by the time they reached the building. Cloud didn't care what the Turks were doing, so long as they stayed out of the way. The world narrowed to four things: the three motorcycles in front of him, and Tifa at his back, so angry that he could almost feel it.

Maybe he _could_ feel it. It was frightening.

They were heading for the unfinished highway, clearly hoping to have their opponents taken care of before they reached its end. Kadaj crashed through the safety gate, the sign from it whipping through the air and narrowly missing Cloud and Tifa as they ducked. Tifa looked behind them before raising her head again, and saw Loz swerve around the sign before it was left behind. Yazoo was on the opposite side of the road, glaring back.

He looked angry.

She smiled in satisfaction.

She saw something flash - Yazoo caught something in his right hand, his gunblade already in his left. Loz's gunblade that matched his own. He stashed it somewhere on the far side of his bike.

Tifa's eyes narrowed as she looked back to Loz. If he was giving Yazoo his gunblade now, it meant that he'd no intention of staying far enough away to make use of a ranged weapon. Good.

It also meant that Yazoo suddenly had twice as many shots available. Not so good.

Yazoo pulled close, lips pulled back in a snarl that changed his smooth face into something wild and cruel - something that finally resembled his nature. He twirled his gunblade, building up some dark charge that swirled about the weapon like smoke, before bringing it into position and firing. Two fiery, meteor-like shots glanced off of Fenrir before Cloud could pull ahead. Even when pushed to his limit, Yazoo's shots were nothing if they didn't hit their target.

Loz had gotten ahead of them, and he swerved close on their left as they reached him; sparks flared as his motorcycle rammed Fenrir, then forced them to scrape against the highway wall. Tifa drew her legs up, knees to her chest and feet finding the seat, ready to spring to Loz's bike as soon as they stabilized.

Loz raised his fist, pilebunker charged and crackling with electricity and aiming for Cloud. Tifa tensed, acutely aware of how awkward her position was - she was balanced with her hands on Cloud's shoulders, and she could barely reach around him to get in a hit.

Loz's eyes flicked toward her for less than a second, slit pupils dilating slightly. Tifa's lips twisted into a malicious smile. She couldn't reach him with her fist, but she could kick his bike -

She didn't have to. Cloud hit a switch, and the sword casings along the front of Fenrir sprang open, knocking Loz's motorcycle aside. Tifa grinned openly as he spun out, sparks flying as his bike scraped along the concrete barrier before he could regain control.

The scrape of metal on metal told her that Cloud was drawing his First Tsurugi base blade, and as Tifa quickly brought her gaze back to the road ahead, she saw why - Yazoo had pulled ahead now. He spun his bike, tires shrieking and smoking at the abuse as he swung the bike sideways, momentum alone causing him to continue to drift ahead. He fired -

- Cloud blocked the shots easily, gunning the engine and ramming Yazoo with his sword stabbing forward like a jousting lance.

Yazoo parried, the First Tsurugi scraping sparks out of the gunblade. The impact sent both motorcycles spinning out of control, locked together, before one or the other of them pushed away enough to break them apart. Tifa could only hang on, maintaining balance and trying to watch for Loz, who would undoubtedly catch up any moment now -

Cloud pulled ahead, made a small noise - Kadaj had taken an exit. He veered toward it, only to have Loz come up on that side, perched on his bike and jumping -

Cloud threw his weight to the side, dragging Fenrir away from the impending blow just in time - but also from the exit that Kadaj had taken.

Tifa didn't follow. She leapt.

Loz missed Fenrir, his gauntlet striking the ground with an explosive shockwave that shattered pavement. His head snapped up and he glared at Cloud, who skidded away backward before righting his bike.

And then Tifa's feet hit his shoulders.

He caught himself before his face slammed into the jagged asphalt, pushing back as Tifa leapt from him. His motorcycle was skidding toward him, Yazoo speeding next to it, aiming his gunblade at Tifa in the air.

Loz jumped, swatted at Tifa with a snarl, only to be kicked aside as his bike passed underneath -

Yazoo caught his arm before he struck the road, swinging him onto his bike behind him and glaring straight ahead at Cloud.

Tifa landed standing on Loz's motorcycle, staring at him intently as she spun with it for a moment before dropping into the seat.

Loz tensed to jump again, but Yazoo slid his leg back, locking his foot around Loz's calf as he accelerated. Cloud was getting too far ahead.

Scowling at Yazoo's interruption, Tifa followed, thankful that she'd spent enough time around Cloud and his bike to know how to drive a motorcycle. More or less. The Remnants pulled ahead; unsure of how to coax more power from the bike, Tifa began to fall back a little, barely keeping up.

Loz kept looking back at her. She could only see his eyes over his shoulder. At first he seemed angry, but the third or fourth time he looked back, she realized that he was checking to see that she was still there.

She finally found the right gear and shifted, gaining more speed. She smirked as she passed them, shooting ahead into a tunnel right behind Cloud.

She managed to pull next to him; he tensed, his sword raised, before he realized that it was her. For a moment, they locked eyes, and she smiled at him fiercely, challenging.

He nodded back before his gaze flicked back to the road ahead. He could do this. He _would_ do this.

Tifa dropped back, swerved to the side, and leapt from the bike as she sent it skidding into Yazoo's path.

Yazoo spun aside, Loz leaping into the air as well, his eyes on Tifa. Cloud gained distance as the other two motorcycles momentarily whirled around each other, close but not touching.

Tifa somersaulted in the air, struck the ceiling with her feet and pushed off again, her Premium Heart beginning to spark with energy. She punched at Loz beneath her, but he caught both fists, growling as they tumbled through the air. Eyes met eyes, and Tifa smiled again - this time full of cruelty. She curled and kicked him in the stomach with both feet.

He spun away, managing to kick off of the wall to land on his still-skidding bike, and dropped into the seat, trying to regain control.

Tifa landed gracefully in front of him and lunged for his throat; he threw himself back until he was lying flat on the bike, her swipes barely missing him. She drew back for balance, and he reached for the controls again. Rather than straightening out the bike, he accelerated into the spin, drifting with dizzying speed as he tried to shake her. Tifa clamped her hand down over one of the air intakes in order to hang on; the metal dented beneath her fingers.

Yazoo drew ahead, flinging himself sideways again and firing at Cloud, who blocked the shots with the sword. Cloud swung to the side, slammed Fenrir into Yazoo's bike, swinging his sword and locking them together in a spin once more.

The scream of tires and engines and the stench of friction-smoking rubber and exhaust filled the tunnel, punctuated by the shots and harsh gunpowder-scent from Yazoo's gunblade. Chaos.

The rear wheel of Loz's bike collided with that of Fenrir, breaking the spin with Yazoo and nearly sending Cloud into the wall. His sword scraped along the wall, leaving a gash that glowed long after the sparks burned out.

They straightened out, Yazoo in the fore and the other two bikes side by side. Loz punched at Tifa with charged gauntlet; she jumped, flipping in the air. Cloud tapped his breaks once, slowing down just enough to catch her on Fenrir's rear fender. For a moment she crouched there, one hand on his shoulder again, gloves flaring with power.

Yazoo twisted in his seat and fired, scowling at her in particular; Cloud blocked again, leaning forward with narrowed eyes.

Loz pulled up next to Yazoo, and they glanced to each other for less than a second - and then Loz was pulling ahead. The engine of his bike began to strain; it wouldn't last long this way.

It didn't have to. He went sideways, threw himself down, stabbed his pilebunker into the asphalt and lifted himself up. Lifted the bike between his legs. Swung it about.

Let go.

Yazoo knew - whether he just _knew_ or saw the reflection in his gunblade, Tifa couldn't tell - and he ducked, firing again. But nobody was there to hit; Tifa leapt up, and Cloud leapt forward, swinging his sword.

Cloud twisted in the air, cleaving the bike in two. Tifa saw Loz push off from the ceiling in a Haste-enhanced blur, drawing his arm back to hit Cloud -

She cast Haste on herself, kicked off of one of the sparking halves of the cleaved motorcycle as it passed beneath her, and landed on the back of Yazoo's bike. The sparks on the falling halves caught leaking fuel and ignited, the broken motorcycle becoming a fireball hurtling through the air behind them.

Loz saw, and saw Yazoo trying to turn without losing control of his bike, and saw the mad grin on Tifa's face as she raised one blazing fist -

He blurred again, pushing off of Cloud like lightning, reaching between Yazoo's head and Tifa's fist. She struck; the pilebunker on his arm snapped in two. He barely had time to fling it away before it exploded, spinning to catch Tifa's following fist in his other hand. Yazoo jerked the bike away from the small explosion, skidding and slowing; Cloud, back on Fenrir, pulled ahead.

The three of them were too much weight - they'd never keep up with Cloud like this. Balancing with one foot on the seat and still hanging on to Tifa, Loz glanced down toward Yazoo once -

Then threw himself backward, dragging Tifa with him.

For an awkward moment they spun in the air, wrapping around each other - and then gravity caught up to them. Loz's shoulder hit the road first, scraping hard and twisting him. Tifa felt her own shoulder strike, then her back - they were rolling. Somehow her head hadn't hit yet, and she wanted to keep it that way; she pulled as close to Loz as she could, using him as a shield. She thought that she glimpsed Yazoo looking back, but he sped on, straining to catch up to Cloud.

They tumbled to a halt, Tifa finally losing hold and rolling to a stop a few feet further on. She was momentarily too dazed to move, trying to take stock of her injuries. She seemed to have done all right - just scrapes and bruises somehow, nothing debilitating...

The scream of metal hitting pavement hit her ears. Her head snapped up; the flaming pieces of motorcycle had finally hit, barreling toward them. She got her feet under her, gathering herself.

Loz grunted, turning onto his side in time to see the wreckage coming their way. He rolled, not to his feet but into a handstand, allowing the burning debris to pass on either side of him - the narrow space between the spinning pieces was just wide enough.

Tifa jumped straight up, called on the Haste spell again, and blurred down toward Loz, landing a kick to his side. Still moving fast enough to leave after-images on the human eye, she danced back, off of the side of the tunnel, and lunged again, this time aiming for his head as he righted himself and whirled at her.

Blurring with Haste as well, Loz punched, blocked each time. He flipped back, away from the wreckage partially blocking the way out, but Tifa ran and slid, barely missing his legs as he jumped away. "No time!" he shouted, turning toward the end of the tunnel.

She was in front of instantly, kicking his jaw and sending him flying back. "No!" She leapt up, punched him down hard; the asphalt shattered beneath him. "NO! Not after what you did to me! You're mine to end!"

She backed off, letting him flip to his feet, sinking into a fighting stance with head low and fists raised. He did likewise, then suddenly bolted forward, landing a hit to her shoulder before she got in three to his chest. He staggered back, managed several kicks to deter her from getting close enough to hit again.

He was getting tired, and Tifa had passed tired and come out the other side. The Haste spell was useless now that she had her own. He'd never suspected that anything like this could happen; they'd never known any human to react to Geostigma like this, becoming... something Other. Something _Wonderful_.

It dawned on him that _he was going to lose_...

"'Course I'm yours," he panted, trying to throw her off. "Just not on your terms -"

The glorious rage on her face, blue-green eyes blazing, was what made the remark worth it. He'd almost caught his breath by the time that she rushed him again, and he had to use Haste just to defend against her. It was draining him fast.

"Lying _BASTARD!_" Tifa snarled, finally dodging around his blocks enough to get her hands around his throat.

He broke her grip, pushing her back and snagging a hold of her wrists. Something in his face changed, some of the excitement dropping away, replaced by hurt. "_I never lied to you!_"

She opened her mouth, about to scream something at him, but she didn't get the chance.

The tunnel exploded.

Both of them turned their heads, staring at the fire and smoke and buckling metal and collapsing concrete, a wave of destruction heading straight for them.

He let go of her wrists, and they turned, both punching down into the road at their feet. The asphalt broke, thrown up by the shockwave, deflecting the fire around them as they crouched behind it. The roar was deafening.

The fireball was the easy part. The subsequent tunnel collapse was what was going to be difficult.

Especially since the power cut, lights shattering into darkness with only fire and burning embers in the smoke to see by.

The asphalt wall broke, tumbled down around them. They were up almost instantly, both using Haste, both lashing and striking away the debris flying at them, almost sensing it more than seeing it. Between smoke and dust, it was nearly impossible to breathe. The tunnel groaned, metal supports shrieking, floor twisting - the tunnel itself was elevated as part of the Plate at this point, and something had given way. Up ahead, toward the exit, the dim light that had been visible from the end of the tunnel winked out in a crushing scream of breaking concrete.

Something directly above them made a dangerously similar sound; Tifa looked up. Loz was suddenly no longer at her side, but in front of her, lacing his fingers with hers, palms flat together. He threw himself back, feet still as firmly planted as the now sloping floor would allow, and flung her up toward the noise without releasing her.

She kicked the falling slab of concrete that would've crushed them both with all the force she'd been saving to use on _him_. It cracked in two, falling on either side of them.

She didn't see. She was looking down into his face. Loz grinned up at her, no trace of pain or fear present - only exhilaration. She knew exactly what he was feeling - she felt exactly the same.

And Tifa smiled back.

And then his eyes focused over her shoulder, on something behind her, and the grin became a grimace. He twisted, casting her away with as much force as possible, his hands slipping from hers as he let go.

She struck the curve of the wall with her shoulder, shouting in surprise and anger as she slid down. The entire tunnel seemed to fill with noise and darkness and the feel of flying debris.

And then it ended, replaced by an eerie, near-complete silence.

Slowly, Tifa opened her eyes, but there wasn't much to see, even with this enhanced vision. What light there was came through newly formed cracks in the ceiling, blazing beams of energy that cut through the dark and were difficult to see around.

Some of those holes looked big enough to crawl through. She pulled herself into a sitting position, kicking dirt and chunks of cement and asphalt from her aching legs, surrounded by a pale shaft of light.

There was a groan from the darkness. "Yazoo..." A shaky, wet sound followed, with another groan. "T - Tifa?"

She froze, staring in the direction of the sound. After a moment she saw it; it would've been invisible to anyone else. A small, moving, blue-green light. Two. Eyes. Loz.

She became aware of a terrible, irregular, almost gurgling sound, and realized that it was his breathing.

"Legs won't work," Loz mumbled with a grunt of effort - then began coughing. "What's... ah... hurts..."

Slowly, almost against her will, Tifa drew her legs under herself and made her way toward him. It took a bit for her eyes to adjust once she left the light; her hands found him before she could see him.

What her fingers touched was raw and wet and pulsing erratically. She yanked her hands back in shock. Given where his eyes were, that should have been his chest.

"Tifa," he whispered, coughing again as he tried to focus on her. He choked, stopped breathing for a moment, eyes closing - she hoped that it was over - but then he gasped, his voice strangled and weak. His eyes opened again, unfocused. Still there.

Her eyes adjusted, and she quickly looked away - but she couldn't keep herself from the scent. Dirt and dust and ash and smoke and blood.

The ceiling had broken and fallen, far more than that first slab. Some piece of reinforced concrete had hit him, twisted, torn him open.

Assuming that she could even get the debris off of him, it would take a Phoenix Down to do anything other than prolong this kind of suffering, and she knew that neither of them had that.

He didn't deserve this, not even after all he'd done. Nobody deserved this. She listened to the way his breath came in short gasps, almost whimpering, and she wished that he'd just stop trying to stay alive.

She realized that he didn't know how to give up. Letting go wasn't something that he or his brothers knew anything about. Their very existence was purely for the sake of survival. It hadn't been cruelty that had prompted him to ask her why she'd tried to commit suicide on the boat - he really didn't understand.

The light in his eyes was so dim...

She focused on his face, and tried not to look at the rest of him. She didn't want to see. She could sense large pieces of concrete far too close to _not_ be crushing him. Inching closer on her knees, she lifted his shoulders to lay his head in her lap, trying not to think about the way his body moved wrong or the sound he made as she did so.

Tifa tried to speak, but her voice wouldn't come out. She closed her eyes, steeled herself, took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, he was looking into them.

"I can make the pain stop," she said softly.

The fading glow in his eyes seemed to flare slightly, and suddenly he was moving. His left arm reached up, caught her by the back of her head, pulled her down. Their lips met.

He tasted of nothing but blood. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, once, barely a shadow of his former ferocity. Then his hand fell away, and the kiss was broken.

Loz shuddered, his breath becoming even more ragged, and closed his eyes. He stilled, whispered. "Do it."

The killing blow was simple and swift. His body twitched once, then went completely still.

The silence in the broken tunnel was again nearly complete. Tifa sat still for a long moment, cradling his head in her lap, unconsciously smoothing his hair back. She bent low over him, her teeth clenched and her lips pulled tight.

She tried to scream, but couldn't - only when she gasped for breath did sound escape her. Her eyes ached until she felt hot flame burning down her face, tiny trails that seemed to cut into her flesh.

There was a low rumble from somewhere outside, the ground trembling slightly. Dust sifted down from what remained of the fractured concrete above.

Tifa lifted her head. It was nearly time now; she could feel it. She had to get out of here, before the tunnel collapsed the rest of the way.

She lowered his body to the broken asphalt, reflecting that her gentleness was pointless.

This had no right to hurt this much.

She stood, took a step back, then hurried as fast as the dared to some of the debris that reached up to one of the fissures in the ceiling. Time to get out of here.

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	15. Fifteen

Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

This is the next to last chapter.

I apologize for taking so long. :-P

* * *

* * *

(Fifteen)

* * *

It only took a few minutes to reach the end of the collapsed tunnel, once Tifa reached the surface. The hard part was skirting the wreckage that the collapse left above ground. Once she reached the end and lowered herself down, the road was clear enough that she could run; it had been largely swept free of debris by the blast.

Up here on the Plate, Midgar was completely abandoned, and eerily silent. Tifa kept walking, stumbling, only vaguely aware of her surroundings. Her focus was turned inward - she concentrated on the threads of feeling that tugged at her, leading toward the center of the city. Toward the tower.

There was a shortcut, a narrow passage between two buildings. She turned to take it -

She was nearly to the far end when a thin black figure suddenly appeared. He'd been leaning against the wall at just the end of the gap, apparently, but now stood straight in her path. Light glinted from the metal in his hands that she nearly collided with, his narrowed eyes gleaming green-blue.

Yazoo had his gunblade trained on her, unwavering, though he supported himself with his right hand on the wall. His left leg seemed to be rather badly mangled; she wondered why for a moment - but he must have been caught in the explosion, and probably wasn't carrying healing Materia.

"You... killed Loz," he choked, and she realized that he was crying.

She looked away from his face, that inexplicable sense of guilt and pain rising in her again. "He asked me to," she whispered. She didn't dare meet his gaze again. The pain there was too deep, and would pull her in and bend her to him if she let it. His will was stronger now than it had ever been before - regret was a powerful force.

All she could do was stand and not look and taste _his_ blood still on her lips and in her mouth and on her hands and -

He wanted to kill her. He wanted that more than anything, other than twisting time back on itself and making things unhappen. But killing her was something that he could actually _do_.

Except that he hadn't yet. She'd walked right into him; what excuse could he possibly have for not pulling the trigger?

Yazoo was shaking now, but at this range, his decreased accuracy would hardly matter. She needed to pass - the pull from the center of the city was growing stronger by the moment. Simply asking would mean nothing to him; it was not in his nature to respond kindly to it. Begging was beneath both of them. That left either demanding, or taking him on, and she didn't have the time to waste on fighting right now. "Get out of my way."

From the direction of the ShinRa tower, there came a rumble of screaming metal and crashing stone. Both of them startled, looking in the direction of the sound.

There was a click as Yazoo cocked the gunblade. Tifa turned her gaze back to him, and for a moment they only stared at each other with similar eyes, both slitted, identical in color, equally reddened and exhausted.

Yazoo flinched first, which should have been a victory, but the pull in her mind was becoming so strong that Tifa barely noticed.

His voice was hoarse. "Help me, Little Sister."

The sky went dark, suddenly overcast with storm. Dark enough that the glow of his eyes was obvious.

He was Remnant, ghost, nothing more than the incomplete shadow of memory - stagnant. And she was reality, still alive and... becoming. Changing.

She tensed, moved back a step - but the gunblade leveled at her head, steady again. Yazoo gritted his teeth. "Help. Me."

Of course. He could feel it too. They _both_ needed to get _there_. Past and Present both being pulled toward Future.

Tifa tilted her head, still not breaking eye contact, and stepped forward again. The gunblade lowered; he carefully uncocked it, his hand trembling. She moved slowly, ducking under his outstretched right arm and pulling it over her shoulders. He didn't resist when she turned, pulling his hand from the wall, becoming his only source of support.

There was more rumbling, and when they stumbled from between the buildings, it was obvious that the shape of the tower had changed. It was falling apart under the force of the power gathered there.

Tifa began to walk, nearly dragging Yazoo with her.

* * *

Neither spoke, both concentrating on walking. There was nothing to be said. No power to hate left, only numb acceptance. But no forgiveness. No redemption.

Yazoo's movements gradually became more and more sluggish; looking back, Tifa could see the trail they were leaving, spatters of blood punctuated by black ichor.

They were both dying.

It was no simple matter to pick their way through the rubble at the base of the abandoned Shinra Tower. Yazoo finally cast Float on both of them, though he could barely stand after that. He hung limply from her back with his arms over her shoulders, gunblade still in hand, and let her climb.

Even with the Float spell, he was quickly becoming dead weight. Tifa clenched her teeth, focusing on climbing. It wouldn't take long, with the spell - and she didn't want to be caught on the outside of the building when the spell wore off. And if he lost his grip and fell, it was his own fault...

"Tifa..."

She tested the next handhold, fingers slipping on the grimy concrete. She tried to ignore that he'd actually used her name, instead of calling her Little Sister again, and she didn't respond.

"I want him back." Yazoo sounded weak, bordering on delirious, if not there already.

"Hn." His mind was going. Useless. She'd drop him now, except that he still had his gunblade; it clacked against the concrete each time she gripped the building close. With her luck, he'd have the presence of mind to fire as he fell.

"I know you can't give him back," he said, quickly, his voice strained in her ear, his head resting against hers. "But I want him back."

_I don't. I don't want him back. I wish he'd never existed to begin with. None of you should exist. If it weren't for you I'd still be drifting..._

_I shouldn't exist either. Don't deserve it any more than any of you._

It started to rain, hard pelting drops that seemed to burn when they hit her. She scowled - just what she needed right now. She felt Yazoo twitch, shivering as though he suffered more pain. He made a small, strange whimpering noise, hiding his face against her shoulder, and she didn't understand why.

Tifa pushed upward, gaining another few feet. One foot slipped from the next foothold, but she managed not to fall, hanging by one hand for a moment before swinging around to cling to the structure again. The wet surface was difficult to keep hold of.

Nearly there. And it had gone far too quiet above...

...Wrong. Something was wrong. It felt Wrong -

Yazoo stiffened, breathing fast, nearly strangling her with his sudden panic. "No, this isn't supposed to happen, Kadaj -"

"Shut up and hang on."

It was like a candle blown out, wisps of smoke left in its wake, but the flame gone entirely. She could feel something missing now. And this hurt, too - and had even less right to do so.

One last push, and she was scrabbling at the wet metal overhang, trying desperately to not lose her grip. If it wasn't for this damn stinging rain...

Yazoo let go with one hand, frantically swiping at the overhang and tossing his gunblade over before he caught it and pulled himself up. Tifa was able to swing up as well, once he let go of her, though when he released her the loss of weight wasn't as much as she'd expected. It was as though he were becoming physically lighter...

He gained his hands and knees, raised his head - and then collapsed, lying on the metal and reaching helplessly. He was crying again, his expression stricken, barely able to speak. "Kadaj... no..."

Curled next to him, Tifa followed his gaze, but she knew already that Kadaj was gone. There was only Cloud on the rooftop, standing in the rain with arms outstretched and face uplifted to the brightening sky, as though receiving some ridiculous blessing.

Yazoo made a sobbing noise, rising to one knee, lifting his gunblade. It took him several tries to stand, and didn't seem to be able.

Tifa drew his right arm over her shoulders again, slipping her left around him, pulling him up. Better to stand. He was far too light now, and she could see a greenish glow creeping over him - the Lifestream wouldn't leave him behind with the other two gone. He couldn't exist on his own. He seemed to be blurring, black and silver bleeding away into the air.

...Only her own bare arms seemed to be falling victim to the same phenomena. It was the rain, she realized. It was raining Mako. That was why it hurt - the damage was irreparable. She was being taken as well.

So it was over, then. Really over.

And then there was a gunshot next to her, and her head jerked up in shock. Cloud was shot, falling...

"We'll go... together," Yazoo choked out, calling to Cloud, nearly losing his footing again. The gunblade - now out of ammo - clattered to the roof from his slackened hand. His head drooped; he was shaking, weak, empty.

Cloud stood, turning - the power radiating from him was almost palpable. For a moment, he stared, and Tifa stared back. Black veins boiled over her entire body, evaporating where the rain struck her only to reappear a moment later. Her eyes gleamed, slitted pupils dilating, her expression hardened. _It's over, Cloud. End it._

And then Cloud was running at them, raising his sword - Tifa had never thought that she'd be on this side of that edge - roaring in wild battle-rage with tears coursing down his face -

Yazoo raised his hand, screaming in a mixture of despair and defiance, channeling every spell he had left into one blast. And fired.

The world suddenly turned to flame. She was pushed back and to the side, unable to breathe, unable to think -

Nothing.

_"Tifa!"_

Everything. Mostly pain. The world was reeling.

She opened her eyes a little, head hanging, confused at the dim and moving images beneath her feet.

"Tifa, come on!"

She realized that she was hanging from one hand on the edge of the now-destroyed roof, staring down at the debris below. She wasn't even holding on to anything - her gauntlet had caught on a bit of twisted metal, and she dangled painfully from her wrist. Only the angle prevented her from slipping out of her gauntlet and falling.

"Dammit, girl, wake up!"

She raised her head. Barret was crouched on the edge of the roof, trying to determine how best to grab her without falling himself. Yuffie loomed over his shoulder.

Vincent was moving around to the side to try to better reach as well. He jammed his clawed metal hand into the remains of the roof, leaning and reaching. "Tifa, give me your other hand."

She blinked a few times, her head clearing - but still didn't move.

She must've blacked out, or at least been addled enough by the blast to have lost time. She could've sworn that the first voice she'd heard calling for her had been...

Her arm. She stared at her arm. Her skin was smudged dark with soot, ached with burns - but she must've been thrown clear pretty quickly.

And the black trails of Geostigma were gone, the grey undertone to her skin now vanished.

No wonder it seemed dim. Her eyes... were hers again. Her mind clear for the first time in what felt like - no, what really had been - days. She'd been hanging here in that stinging Mako rain the entire time she'd been unconscious...

Mako. The Lifestream. Aeris...

Weakened metal creaked, shifted, and she suddenly dropped an inch. Yuffie yelped, close to flailing her arms in helplessness. "Tifa!"

And then Barret had her, unhooking her from the metal and lifting her, the tendons in his arm standing out from the strain before he managed to get her onto the roof. Vincent could only move back, trying to stay out of the way.

"Don' go scarin' us like that," Barret panted, a strangely pained edge to his gruff voice. "You okay?"

Tifa didn't answer, but slowly pulled herself to her knees, damp hair whipping in the wind. She looked up - the Sierra was lowered quite close to the roof, and she could just imagine the barrage of curses coming out of Cid's mouth while he tried to keep that position in this wind.

There was the sound of claws on metal; Nanaki came close, tail lashing uneasily. Cait Sith rode on his shoulders, unusually silent and still.

She looked down at her arms again, then folded them over her chest, hugging herself. She'd been healed. _Aeris_ had healed her. She'd been forgiven by the Planet.

It had to be a mistake. An unintentional side effect. Even Aeris wouldn't waste the energy of the Planet to save her at this point. She had nearly been - had become -

Tifa raised her head again, eyes dry and empty. She glanced at each of those around her in turn, then frowned, scanning the roof. "Cloud..."

There was an uncomfortable silence, during which Barret looked away, Nanaki hung his head, and Yuffie covered her face. It was Vincent who finally spoke.

"There's nothing left."

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	16. Sixteen End

Author's Note: Disclaimer and Extended Author's Note found below.

* * *

* * *

(Sixteen)

* * *

The wood of the pew was so old that it was nearly black, except where the varnish had been worn away by decades of worshippers - and even there, the grime of disuse worked to darken the wood again. Tifa picked at the decaying surface, gazing absently at the way the morning light coming through the stained glass windows painted her skin. Dark on her arms, as though the Geostigma was still there, and red on her hands, like the blood hadn't washed away...

She realized that there were others sitting on the pew with her. She felt the seat creak as they sat, felt the warmth of someone far too close to her. She raised her head and looked.

There was no one there - only the vague impression of green at eye level, and darkness beyond. She blinked, and it was gone - only her own shadow on the wood, outlined by the stained light.

The air must've shifted; the scent of the lilies that grew here seemed stronger.

She finally noticed the excited voices, and that some of the others were looking at her, and glanced up, toward the Mako-infused water.

And there, surrounded by some of the children who'd had Geostigma, stood Cloud.

Her eyes widened slightly; she sat up straighter, and then she smiled a little - as much as she could bring herself to. He was alive. He'd been given back. This was right - he deserved this mercy so much. That she'd been spared was simply an accident; he'd been completely resurrected.

Of course he had been. Aeris wouldn't let him rest until all was right with the world, or close enough. And he loved her for it.

Barret fairly pushed Denzel into the water. The boy stood nervously while Cloud anointed him with the diluted Lifestream, as though performing some ritual.

Tifa looked away, feeling far too tainted to witness this purification. It was nothing that she could be a part of. She wondered, if she touched the water, would it turn black? Had the healing rain truly wiped every trace of darkness from her? It didn't feel like it. Her chest tightened with the certainty that she would be forever as Cloud was, or at least had been before this rebirth - forever carrying the last remnants of the evil they'd fought.

The seat creaked again, but again, it was empty but for her shadow stretching out from her.

When she looked toward Cloud again, everyone cheering now and some splashing into the new pond, he wasn't looking at her. He was looking toward the door of the church, his face relaxed into the softest smile she'd seen him wear in years.

And it was not for her, and never would be.

* * *

Seventh Heaven was crowded, full of friends and neighbors and the families of the children who'd been healed and the children themselves. Tifa had simply nodded when Barret had suggested that they return there for food, and he and Yuffie had promptly raided the kitchen upon arrival, making quite a party of it. They'd been at it for so long that the light outside was fading.

Tifa scanned the room as she came down the stairs, having bathed and changed clothes. Vincent had suggested that she might want to rest, but Yuffie had been adamant that she come down and join them. Tifa had agreed for the sake of quieting her - trying to take some of that anxious undertone from the girl's voice.

Cloud turned and saw her, and smiled, but was quickly pulled away by some of the parents. A man in a cap whom she remembered seeing in the square slapped him so hard on the back that he stumbled forward. From his expression, Cloud was only slightly more comfortable with this party than she was.

She sat at the end of the bar, next to the wall, where she felt shielded from most of the room. She turned so as to watch - mostly to keep an eye out for anyone approaching her. Mercifully, she was left alone, for the most part.

Cid was mixing drinks, trying to twirl the bottles the way she did. He needed a lot of practice; he'd already broken two just since she'd come downstairs.

There came the sound of a third bottle smashing, and a string of completely uncensored curses from Cid that made several of the parents in the room blanch. Tifa couldn't help but smirk.

"That's better," Cid said instantly, slamming a glass down in front of her. Whatever was in it was brown and slopped when the glass hit the bar, and smelled like it might just be a bit of every bit of liquor available.

Tifa's smile faded, but she accepted the drink. She decided that she didn't care what it was.

Cloud had made his way toward them, pacing behind the bar with his cellphone to his ear, covering his other ear with his hand. He had to shout to be heard over the noise of the crowd. "What? No, not talking work today, sorry!" He glanced up at her and smiled again, then turned and wandered into the kitchen, still listening to whoever had called him.

She turned her back on the room, sipping at the drink. It tasted horrible, but at least it was strong.

She felt the air next to her stir, the sound of rustling fabric just barely discernable over the din. She looked, half expecting it to be only her shadow.

"Noisy," Vincent commented, only briefly meeting her eyes as he settled onto the barstool next to her.

It was like having another wall on her other side - he wouldn't speak to her unless she spoke first, and most others would decline to approach with him there.

And for that, Tifa was thankful.

It was dark outside when Shinra and his entourage showed up, and even though some of the families had left, the noise level increased again. It didn't take long for most of the children and parents to clear out with the addition of the Turks to the party.

Vincent disappeared somewhere, possibly the kitchen. Tifa turned, watching Rufus waving away help as he walked stiffly to an empty seat across the room, his Turks fluttering around him like moths to flame. He sat at the same table as Reeve, who was talking to Nanaki and doing something with his robotic Cait Sith puppet that involved a screwdriver and a sewing kit.

Reno promptly took a running jump and vaulted over the bar, snatching up bottles so quickly that he couldn't possibly have had time to note the contents. He tossed several across to his partner, then glanced at Tifa as though he expected her to object. Cid sure was, though he was making an effort to curb his tongue this time, all too aware of the kids still in the room after having been reprimanded by one of their mothers. It was making him creative.

It didn't matter.

At the far end of the bar, Marlene was sitting in her father's lap. They smiled and laughed, but Marlene kept looking over at Tifa, worry crossing her round features.

Tifa looked away from her, staring at an indeterminate patch of air on the other side of the bar. Where she had stood countless times, tending or cleaning...

That had been someone else. Some other lifetime. Not something meant for her.

Of course Marlene was worried. Barret had left her in Tifa's care, and they'd grown close, and she'd trusted her. And the little girl had seen Tifa beaten unconscious and separated from her, and if nothing else, knew that something bad had happened to her after that.

Tifa hoped that Marlene knew no more than that.

The girl had to be worried that something like that might happen again. Tifa had failed. There was no way that she could protect Marlene now.

She'd just decided that she must be drinking too slowly - the drinks didn't seem to be having any effect yet - when someone sat down next to her again. "I'll have what she's having."

Tifa's head jerked up in surprise. The female Turk, Elena, swiveled the barstool so as to face her. "Been a long couple of days, and that smells strong enough to help."

The corner of Tifa's mouth crept upward, but it couldn't quite be classified as a smile. "Not really. This is my third."

Cid visibly startled at hearing her speak, but didn't disturb them, other than to hand Elena a glass full of something he'd hastily slopped together. It was a different shade of amber than what was in Tifa's glass, but the concept was obviously the same.

They were silent for a few minutes, but not uncomfortably so. Elena eventually spoke again. "I wanted to... Ah, I don't know the right words." She took a sip from her glass, making a face. "I don't know if there _are_ right words. But I... They got a hold of Tseng and I for a while there. I know what they could do." She took a gulp this time. "I feel sorry for you."

Tifa did not flinch; she only stared into her glass, running her finger around the wet rim. The faintest of hums came from the glass edge.

She'd been sure that words like these would break her. She'd been waiting for them. But... the silence of her friends, as they tried to draw cheer out of her - their furrowed brows and rushed whispers to each other - that was worse. Having sympathy offered so bluntly was a relief.

"Vincent mentioned getting you out of there," she responded, still staring at her drink. The damp at the edge on the glass wore away, the hum abruptly ceasing as her fingertip caught. She took the glass in hand again and drank deeply.

Elena nodded. "Yeah. Need to do something to thank him. Tseng was... fading, by that point. They stopped healing him in between..."

She glanced up as the Turk trailed off, and watched Elena set down her drink and fold her hands in her lap. She would've been the very image of control, had Tifa not seen the way her hands were shaking.

Tifa set her own drink down again, wrapping her hands around the glass. "Did they -"

"No," Elena answered a little too quickly. She swallowed, then looked Tifa in the eye. "I've never been so glad to be _just_ beaten senseless in my entire life."

The corner of Tifa's mouth twitched again, and this time, it was definitely a smile. "Thanks," she said quietly, almost hoping that nobody else would hear.

Elena nodded, half-smiling as well. "By the way? Highwind is a horrible bartender. This is the worst drink I've ever had."

It must've been going on midnight by the time the room cleared entirely. Shinra left first, still deep in conversation with Reeve. The Turks followed closely, with Rude dragging his now bruised and unmistakably drunk partner along by the collar of his jacket. Yuffie waved cheerily after them - she was the one who'd given Reno his bruises - before helping Cid and Vincent tidy up. The three of them went upstairs soon after, heading for the guest rooms. Barret excused himself to take Marlene up to bed; she'd fallen asleep in his lap. Nanaki had been dozing by the table that he and Reeve had occupied, and roused enough to head upstairs himself when Reeve left.

Cait Sith remained sitting on the table, slumped and still without Reeve's control.

Denzel came over and sat next to Tifa, hugging one knee to his chest, the other leg dangling from the barstool. He joined her in staring at her empty glass. "Tifa?"

"Hm."

The boy took a deep breath, started to speak, stopped, and sighed. Then took another breath, his voice low. "What... What _he_ did to you..."

Tifa raised her eyes, brow furrowing. She hadn't been sure how much Denzel had known of what had happened to her, but it seemed that he knew enough. "Denzel -"

"I know what he did, and it's not right," the boy said quietly, resolutely keeping his eyes - beautiful and blue and round as they should be - from meeting hers.

"I know, and..." He swallowed uncomfortably. "I want to learn to fight. Both from you and Cloud. I want to learn to fight better than _they_ could, so that whenever they or anyone else like them comes around again, they won't be able to hurt anyone at all. I couldn't... I couldn't do anything to stop them, but I want to be able to..."

"We'll see," Tifa murmured, gaze sliding away from the boy. It didn't make sense that he wanted to learn to fight from her when she'd been beaten so badly. He'd probably forget the request anyway. He had time to forget.

"I'll teach you."

Cloud was standing behind them; the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "We'll talk about it later. Go on upstairs now, Denzel. It's late."

Denzel returned Cloud's smile and rushed to comply, barely ducking away when Cloud ruffled his hair.

Cloud watched him go, waiting until he was out of sight before letting the small smile fade. He took Denzel's place next to Tifa, even as she looked away again.

For a long time, neither of them spoke.

Cloud finally cleared his throat. "When I... realized that I had Geostigma," he whispered, "I... I thought I deserved it, after everything that I'd messed up. I thought that if I left, it'd be easier for everybody to get over it, when it killed me. If I wasn't there to be mourned."

Tifa said nothing. He wasn't even sure if she'd heard him, but he continued anyway. "But you... all of you were still here for me. I was just too stupid to notice..."

"Do you have a point?" Tifa muttered, uncomfortably sure that she knew what he was getting at.

Cloud winced - he could fight for hours on end, but one sharp word from her could cut him to the core. "I know it hurts." He looked at her, turning slightly on the barstool. "All of it. Some things you don't think should hurt at all are the worst, too."

Tifa lowered her head, her hair hiding her face.

He took a deep breath. "If you need... If you need to go, we'll be here waiting for you. All of us." He leaned, tilting his head, inviting her to look him in the face. "I'll be waiting for you."

She didn't look. "I'm not worth it."

"Doesn't matter," Cloud murmured. "I'll still wait. You waited for me, even when I failed you."

They were silent for a long time.

She finally raised her head. "I need space."

He nodded, standing and moving away from her. "I..." he trailed off, staring at her back, then shook his head. "Good night, Tifa," he said, his voice filling the words with every emotion he had for her. He turned and headed for the stairs, looking back at her only once.

In the morning, Tifa was gone, and Cloud knew that just like him, she hadn't looked back. That just like him, she knew herself to be broken and worthless.

And that just like him, she was wrong.

**-End-**

* * *

* * *

**End Author's Note:**

This bit of explaining is dedicated to a friend, without whose grilling on the subject I probably never would've bothered to document this. It is thanks to her that I am reminded that some explanation is in order, as the subject matter here ain't exactly sweetness and light.

_This is not a love story._

No, seriously. It's not. If this version of Loz had a clue as to what actual love was, he never would've done this (Yay Canon!), and nobody, much less someone as strong-willed as Tifa, is going to fall in love with someone who rapes them. Just, no. Not without a great deal more mental instability beforehand and a significantly more liberal application of Stockholm Syndrome, as far as I'm concerned.

Allow me to reiterate: This is not a love story.

Angst, Drama, even Horror, but not Love.

_Why write in the rape, then?_

The plot wouldn't work without it, and it's not even purely for the sake of infecting her in the first place. In her "On the Way to a Smile" story, it's shown that Tifa, of all people, does indeed have doubts and angst post-game. However, Cloud wants her to forget these feelings, instead of dealing with them. Tifa being the sort to bottle things up and do just about anything if she thinks it'll help someone she cares about, she likely buries these doubts for Cloud's sake. I suspect that these feelings are still there in Advent Children, where she's thrown herself wholeheartedly into supporting Denzel and Marlene and Cloud - she's living for them, not herself. She is strong enough to bolster Cloud; even losing badly to Loz isn't enough to break her. Alone, being taken away from everything she cares about and shown how powerless she is mightn't even be enough to break her. But that, in conjunction with the buried angst, is enough for her to break herself - thus leaving Jenova a way in to begin to take control.

Also, rape is such a badly used and horribly mangled plot device that I think I kinda wanted to redeem it a bit. Say, hey, this isn't something fluffy to be played with like that; cut it out with the Magical Healing Sex and Rape Love stuff, eh? It's ridiculous to the point of disrespectful. If you're going to write that, note that you at least _know_ it's fantasy... I really worry about a lot of fanfic authors and what they're going to get themselves into, writing on the subject at chronically young ages.

_So what's with Sephiroth in Chapter 10?_

The stronger the Jenova cells within her become, the more of their own voice they grow to have. At first this shows as a lack of anger toward Loz for his actions (which could just be part of the shock/depression setting in). It progresses to outright physical attraction (her mind is still her own, but her body has other ideas). Finally, it manifests as her hallucinations of Sephiroth. In all cases, the intent of the Jenova cells is the same: keep her broken enough to stay with, or angry enough to go to, the Remnants. The intent of her waking mind is inconsequential so long as that goal is achieved, and the schism of two utterly different wills in one mind drives her fairly mad by the end. The will of Jenova within her appears to her as Sephiroth because he is, to her, the representation of all evil and opposition. It's she herself who fills in his personality and actions, just as it was he that filled in Jenova's personality as his Mother.

In Chapter 10, Sephiroth is a combination of the will of the Jenova cells - break her and keep her from fighting rescue - and Tifa's own fears and memories. As someone who had already faced death many times, the scene conjured to break her was drawn from those memories, and changed to hurt her with the powerlessness that frightens her more than death (which her subconscious readily admits, though her conscious self refuses to acknowledge this, as a survival tactic).

_If this is so traumatic, why is Tifa being so detached?_

The short answer: Survival. There's a planet to save; she'll break down on her own time.

The long answer: It seems from the game that she'll hold everything inside if she thinks it'll accomplish something, be that keeping her childhood friend near her, or keeping him sane. She's also exceptionally strong, physically and mentally (she could fall into the Lifestream and come out just fine, whereas other people - like Cloud - would lose their minds in the liquid memory). Her tendency to bottle things up is her weakness. In this case, she's hiding her hurt away to deal with later out of necessity - it's her only option for dealing with it. Either she removes herself from it so that she can function, or she becomes useless broken deadweight (which she's too strong to do, whether she likes it or not, in my opinion).

_Did Loz ever love Tifa or not?_

Does it matter? Either he does and he's just that clueless/twisted, or his fascination with Tifa is driven by Jenova attempting to secure a suitable host, in which case he's doing his Mother's will and he'd be happy anyway.

I'm never writing him quite like this again. I like him too much.

_Anyway._

Anyway. While I'd read materials before (so I wasn't going into this totally clueless), I did not at first find anything specific on rape that didn't involve direct personal stories. As I was doing a fictional portrayal of rape after-effects - specifically, the effects of the Jenova cells - I really, really was not comfortable with utilizing anyone's true personal story. I felt that this would be highly disrespectful of a serious subject. So, I gave up and drew on what I already knew and how I thought things would work with the given characterizations.

The friend that inspired this note, however, has stronger google-foo than I, and found some links that weren't as personal-sounding as what my own searches had turned up. I tried one, which, while it includes personal information, also includes helpful clinical information. So, I can recommend

dancinginthedarkness dot com

as a useful resource. However, please remember that this is a real site, with information on real problems and real people, and be respectful of these peoples' privacy and the gravity of the problem.

If I hear of anyone harassing them with hypothetical fic questions,

I Will Make That Someone Regret It.

I'd say I hope that you enjoyed what is likely to be one of my few forays into angst, but... I'm not that certain that that's the right thing to say. :-P

And why did I have to write it? I DON'T KNOW. I'll add it here if I ever figure it out. ¬¬

I learned in writing this that I'll never do anything like this for any of my original fic. (Yes, I know that saying "never" pretty much ensures that it'll happen eventually... but not for a long time.) I also learned that I like writing action a lot more than writing angst, so I'm going to go work on some of my other current fic here on in particular the post-apocalyptic AU _Noir de la Lune_, where Tifa is still broken (but less so, and for different reasons) and far more harsh, and will doubtless kick Loz's ass repeatedly. Lots of action, lots of destruction, less angst. :-)

I have some fluffier stuff to post here, too - soon I hope. Angst kicks my ass. So... see you later...

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


End file.
